The                                          The                                        The                                                The                                             The                                           The                                           The                                            The

Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicéan barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome. Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The agate lamp within thy hand! Ah, Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy-Land! #Hele

Chapter 28 Know the masculine, hold to the feminine Be the watercourse of the world Being the watercourse of the world The eternal virtue does not depart Return to the state of the infant Know the white, hold to the black Be the standard of the world Being the standard of the world The eternal virtue does not deviate Return to the state of the boundless Know the honor, hold to the humility Be the valley of the world Being the valley of the world The eternal virtu