Peace to the souls of the graveless dead! 'Twas an awful doom to dree; But fearful and wondrous are thy works, O God! in the boundless sea!

This isn't faint of heart and shouldn't be a trick you practise regularly, but a little bit of exhilaration and the occasional late night are fine; I'd argue that they're part of life's rich tapestry of experiences and are to be celebrated.

I lift my soule to thee o Lord mee, o Iehovah, heare In thee, o Lord, I put my trust

“HIEROPHANTIC—expounding mysteries” the note said. “Pernoctation—all night vigil” and “ursicide—one who kills a bear”. The words were scrawled on the paper, which had fallen out of an old wallet. It was a relic of times long ago when in idle moments I foraged through the dictionary and tried to construct sentences using the words that caught my interest. The mysteries of killing bears could very well have been explained to a tyro by a seasoned ursicide during an all-night vigil, perhaps achieved while sitting up a tree. / I turned the paper over and was at once transported into the early 1950s.