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And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky,

Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die,

Lift not thy hands to It for help — for It

Rolls impotently on as Thou or I.

But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor

Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door

You gaze To-day, while You are You — how then

To-morrow, You when shall be You no more?

Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd

Of the Two Worlds so learnedly — are thrust

Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn

Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.

And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before

The Tavern shouted — "Open then the Door!

You know how little while we have to stay,

And, once departed, may return no more."

And this reviving Herb whose tender Green

Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean —

Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows

From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!

You've got to have something to eat and a little love in your life before you can hold still for any damn body's sermon on how to behave. Everything I am and everything I want out of life goes smack back to that.

A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,

A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou

Beside me singing in the Wilderness —

Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!

Somebody once said we never know what is enough until we know what's more than enough.

I'm always making a comeback but nobody ever tells me where I've been.

Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,

Before we too into the Dust Descend;

Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,

Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer and — sans End!

"How sweet is mortal Sovranty!"—think some:

Others — "How blest the Paradise to come!"

Ah, take the Cash in hand and wave the Rest;

Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!

Imagine if the government chased sick people with diabetes, put a tax on insulin and drove it into the black market, told doctors they couldn’t treat them, and then caught them, prosecuted them for not paying their taxes, and then sent them to jail. If we did that, everyone would know we were crazy. Yet we do practically the same thing every day in the week to sick people hooked on drugs. The jails are full and the problem is getting worse every day.