"For let us make our Fête of to-day, for to-morrow we are gone, and what we have enjoyed is gone, and we are gone, and gone is our memory too."

"And fear not lest Existence closing your Account, and mine, should know the like no more; The Eternal Saki from that Bowl has pour'd Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour."

"Why, all the Saints and Sages who discussed Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn Are scattered, and their Mouths are stopped with Dust."

"A Moment's Halt—a momentary taste Of Being from the Well amid the Waste—And lo! the Phantom Caravan has reach'd The Nothing it set out from—Oh, make haste!"

"The Potter, having labor’d long and sore In many a Wheel, turns out at last no more Than a broken Pot, which he throws away, And then begins his work again as before."