God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay–
just dance and dance and sing thine songs
for the beast has you at bay!
Curse this scribe and curse this truth
and denounce the call of God–
for in the ending dance, my friend,
'twill be ye atop the sod!
(You might well find that you did not ascend properly and there is no one left to put you 'neath that
sod.)
Walk within the shelter of my wings, chelas, and I shall care for you–you're not heavy to carry for
you are my brother! Good night and sweet dreams! Will you fly with the great and powerful
whirlwind unto the heavens or will you simply reap the ravages of the whirlwind? It is indeed your
choice! AHO!