65 . The Crazy World

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?’