He Saw That It Was An Ironical

If There Is A Witness To My Little Life,to My Tiny Throes And Struggles,he Sees A Fool;and It Is Not Fine For Gods To Menace Fools.

The Voice Of God Whispers In The Heart So Softly That The Soul Pauses, Making No Noise, And Strives For These Melodies, Distant, Sighing, Like Faintest Breath, And All The Being Is Still To Hear.

When The Prophet, A Complacent Fat Man, Arrived At The Mountain-top He Cried: "woe To My Knowledge! I Intended To See Good White Lands And Bad Black Lands— But The Scene Is Grey.

There Is Nothing- No Life, No Joy, No Pain- There Is Nothing Save Opinion, And Opinion Be Damned.

But I Like It Because It Is Bitter, And Because It Is My Heart.