THE WORLD did say to me,
-My bread thou shalt not eat,
I have no place for thee
In house nor field nor street.

-I have on land nor sea
For thee nor home nor bread,
I scarce can give to thee
A grave when thou art dead.-

-O crazy World,- said I,
-What is it thou canst give,
Which wanting, I must die,
Or having, I shall live?

-When thou thy all hast spent,
And all thy harvests cease,
I still have nutriment
That groweth by decrease.

-Thy streets will pass away,
Thy towers of steel be rust,
Thy heights to plains decay,
Thyself be wandering dust;

-But I go ever on
From prime to endless prime,
I sit on Being-s throne,
A lord o-er space and time.

-Then, crazy World,- said I,
-What is it thou canst give,
Which wanting, I must die,
Or having, I shall live?-