Sweet Babe, In Thy Face

If The Doors Of Perception Were Cleansed Everything Would Appear To Man As It Is, Infinite. For Man Has Closed Himself Up, Till He Sees All Things Thru Chinks Of His Cavern.

The Hand Of Vengeance Found The Bed To Which The Purple Tyrant Fled The Iron Hand Crush'd The Tyrant's Head And Became Tyrant In His Stead.

Man Has No Body Distinct From His Soul; For That Called Body Is A Portion Of Soul Discerned By The Five Senses, The Chief Inlets Of Soul In This Age.

How Do You Know But Ev’ry Bird That Cuts The Airy Way, Is An Immense World Of Delight, Clos’d By Your Senses Five?

The Man Who Never Alters His Opinions Is Like Standing Water, And Breeds Reptiles Of The Mind.