O Mother of Good Counsel, lend Intelligence to me! Encompass me with wisdom, Thou Tower of Ivory! 'This is the Man of Lies,' she says, 'Disguised with fearful art: He has the wounded hands and feet, But not the wounded heart.'

He comes, and his face is sad and mild, With thorns his head is crowned; There are great bleeding wounds in his feet, And in each hand a wound. How can I tell,…

Oh, he can be the forest, And he can be the sun, Or a buttercup, or an hour of rest When the weary day is done. I saw him through a thousand veils, And has not…

At the foot of the Cross on Calvary Three soldiers sat and diced, And one of them was the Devil And he won the Robe of Christ.

I have always loved truth so passionately that I have often resorted to lying as a way of first introducing it into minds which were ignorant of its charms.

Please don't lie to me, unless you're absolutely sure I'll never find out the truth.

But that he wrought so high the specious tale, As manifested plainly 'twas a lie.