Ah! What Avails It Me The Flocks

And More Than Echoes Talk Along The Walls.

Amusement Is The Happiness Of Those Who Cannot Think.

When To The Permanent Is Sacrificed The Mutable, The Prize Is Thine: The Drop Returneth Whence It Came. The Open Path Leads To The Changeless Change - Non-being, The Glorious State Of Absoluteness, The Bliss Past Human Thought.

Some Judge Of Authors' Names, Not Works, And Then Nor Praise Nor Blame The Writings, But The Men.

But Just Disease To Luxury Succeeds, And Ev'ry Death Its Own Avenger Breeds.