The                                          The                                        The                                                The                                             The                                           The                                           The                                            The

"A Poison Tree" William Blake I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I water'd it in fears, Night & morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright; And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine, And into my garden stole When the night had veil'd the pole: In the morning glad I see

Part Four: Time and Eternity X I DIED for beauty, but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? “For beauty,” I replied. “And I for truth,—the two are one; We brethren are,” he said. And so, as kinsmen met a night, We talked between the rooms, Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names. Emily Dickinson, without doubt, earned her title as one of the Masters of Literature.

It is hard to explain how alchemy, the philosopher’s stone, and the spiritual aspects of our human characteristics reflect themselves through Art. Music is primarily the essence of that, which we may symbolize and name it as “Beauty,” or “Truth” per se. However, it is because of Literature that we begin to understand it. It is because of Literature that we globally understand symbols of communication (that we call “words”) to perceive it, and share it. And it is through those