Whatsoever Thy Birth, Thou Wert

We Have Fools In All Sects, And Impostors In Most; Why Should I Believe Mysteries No One Can Understand, Because Written By Men Who Chose To Mistake Madness For Inspiration And Style Themselves Evangelicals?

He Who Grown Aged In This World Of Woe, In Deeds, Not Years, Piercing The Depths Of Life, So That No Wonder Waits Him.

Well, Well, The World Must Turn Upon Its Axis, And All Mankind Turn With It, Heads Or Tails, And Live And Die, Make Love And Pay Our Taxes, And As The Veering Winds Shift, Shift Our Sails.

Time Strips Our Illusions Of Their Hue, And One By One In Turn, Some Grand Mistake Casts Off Its Bright Skin Yearly Like The Snake.

O Gold! I Still Prefer Thee Unto Paper, Which Makes Bank Credit Like A Bark Of Vapour.