Drink! For You Know Not When You

The Moving Finger Writes; And Having Writ, Moves On.

Oh! My Beloved! Fill The Cup, That Clears To-day Of Past Regrets And Future Fears.

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

You've Seen The World, And All You've Seen Is Nothing; And Everything, As Well, That You Have Said And Heard Is Nothing. You've Sprinted Everywhere Between Here And The Horizon; It Is Nothing. And All The Possessions You've Treasured Up At Home Are Nothing.

This Clay, So Strong Of Heart, Of Sense So Fine,surely Such Clay Is More Than Half Divine--'tis Only Fools Speak Evil Of The Clay,the Very Stars Are Made Of Clay Like Mine.