The Drinking Man Is Never

Beholding Heaven, And Feeling Hell.

We Are Nothing; Less Than Nothing, And Dreams. We Are Only What Might Have Been, And Must Wait Upon The Tedious Shores Of Lethe Millions Of Ages Before We Have Existence, And A Name.

Merit, God Knows, Is Very Little Rewarded.

Lawyers, I Suppose, Were Children Once.

The True Poet Dreams Being Awake.