I Judge People By What

In Heaven I Yearn For Knowledge, Account All Else Inanity; On Earth I Confess An Itch For The Praise Of Fools - That's Vanity

You Should Not Take A Fellow Eight Years Old And Make Him Swear To Never Kiss The Girls.

Truth Is Truth Howe'er It Strike.

Only I Discern Infinite Passion, And The Pain Of Finite Hearts That Yearn.

No! Let Me Taste The Whole Of It, Fare Like My Peers, The Heroes Of Old, Bear The Brunt, In A Minute Pay Glad Life's Arrears Of Pain, Darkness And Cold.