Of poets and of men, women and of children, animal and of insect, neither above the latter, nor above the former all in which a spirit do possess; on equal grounds, upon every color under skyward winds are they, all fashioned, with each a mask, and a specialty that is hidden beneath the veil of four in number, and in which another mask wherewithal a mask covering the gate caging the heart, as then soul, and who haseth its key Oh! What one once opening it, could ever succeed in tearing the yet another veil of the veil itself?