To Be Free Of Belief

There Was A Door To Which I Found No Key: There Was The Veil Through Which I Might Not See.

Ah, Take The Cash, And Let The Credit Go, Nor Heed The Rumble Of A Distant Drum!

Here's To The Man Who Owns The Land That Bears The Grapes That Makes The Wine That Tastes As Good As This Does.

Drink! For You Know Not When You Came, Nor Why; Drink! For You Know Not Why You Go, Nor Where.

Wake! For The Sun, Who Scatter'd Into Flight The Stars Before Him From The Field Of Night, Drives Night Along With Them From Heav'n, And Strikes The Sultan's Turret With A Shaft Of Light