“Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire,And Hell the Shadow from a Soul on fire,Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves,So late emerged from, shall so soon expire.”

“Strange, is it not? that of the myriads whoBefore us pass'd the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the Road,Which to discover we must travel too.”

“Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'dOf the Two Worlds so wisely - they are thrustLike foolish Prophets forth; their Words to ScornAre scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.”

“One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;/The Flower that once has blown forever dies.”

“But helpless Pieces of the Game He playsUpon this chequer-board of Nights and DaysHither and thither moves, and checks and slays”

“Oh, come with old Khayyám, and leave the WiseTo talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies;One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies;The Flower that once blown for ever dies.”

“And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,End in the Nothing all Things end in - Yes -Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but whatThou shalt be - Nothing - though shalt not be less.”