Even When Poetry Has A Meaning, As

And Silence Sounds No Worse Than Cheers After Earth Has Stopped The Ears.

Who Made The World I Cannot Tell; 'tis Made, And Here Am I In Hell. My Hand, Though Now My Knuckles Bleed, I Never Soiled With Such A Deed.

If A Man Will Comprehend The Richness And Variety Of The Universe, And Inspire His Mind With A Due Measure Of Wonder And Awe, He Must Contemplate The Human Intellect Not Only On Its Heights Of Genius But In Its Abysses Of Ineptitude.

Stone, Steel, Dominions Pass, Faith Too, No Wonder; So Leave Alone The Grass That I Am Under.

The Laws Of God, The Laws Of Man, He May Keep That Will And Can; Not I: Let God And Man Decree Laws For Themselves And Not For Me.