The Rose That Once Has

Why, All The Saints And Sages Who Discuss'd Of The Two Worlds So Wisely - They Are Thrust Like Foolish Prophets Forth; Their Words To Scorn Are Scattered, And Their Mouths Are Stopped With Dust.

Oh, The Brave Music Of A Distant Drum!

You've Seen The World, And All You've Seen Is Nothing; And Everything, As Well, That You Have Said And Heard Is Nothing. You've Sprinted Everywhere Between Here And The Horizon; It Is Nothing. And All The Possessions You've Treasured Up At Home Are Nothing.

In Monasteries, Seminaries, Retreats And Synagogues, They Fear Hell And Seek Paradise. Those Who Know The Mysteries Of God Never Let That Seed Be Planted In Their Souls.

The Wine-cup Is The Little Silver Well, Where Truth, If Truth There Be, Doth Dwell.