What Is Mind? No Matter. What Is

For Man May Pious Texts Repeat, And Yet Religion Have No Inward Seat

Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright And Yellow, Hard And Cold!

But Evil Is Wrought By Want Of Thought, As Well As Want Of Heart!

It Was A Childish Ignorance, But Now 'tis Little Joy To Know I'm Further Off From Heaven Than When I Was A Boy.

My Tears Must Stop, For Every Drop Hinders Needle And Thread.