This blue that is called azure-blue,
This scoop of water, clump of earth,
This foolish nonsense of no worth,
Called good and evil by some pedants too
Oh, this diversion full of vain pretence!
This you can gape at? By and by
Will you take in a dream so wry
To call it life must mean you lack all sense?
Oh, surely there is more to life than this!
By human thought I could not make a hole
In this great veil, or fire in this black coal
For thought itself is play that goes amiss
Oh, if that Alexander were here now,
Hed proffer me his sword and I But see:
There with his scythe strides death ahead of me
To slice the knot he only needs one blow!
