I Came Like Water, And Like Wind

The Revelations Of Devout And Learn'd Who Rose Before Us, And As Prophets Burn'd, Are All But Stories, Which, Awoke From Sleep They Told Their Comrades, And To Sleep Return'd.

For In And Out, Above, About, Below, 'tis Nothing But A Magic Shadow-show, Played In A Box Whose Candle Is The Sun, Round Which We Phantom Figures Come And Go.

The Moving Finger Writes; And, Having Writ, Moves On: Nor All Your Piety Nor Wit Shall Lure It Back To Cancel Half A Line, Nor All Your Tears Wash Out A Word Of It.

Oh Thou, Who Man Of Baser Earth Didst Make, And Ev'n With Paradise Devise The Snake; For All The Sin Wherewith The Face Of Man Is Blackened - Man's Forgiveness Give And Take!

To Be Free Of Belief And Unbelief Is My Religion.