Into this Universe, and _Why_ not knowing Nor _Whence_, like Water willy-nilly flowing; And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not _Whither_, willy-nilly blowing. XXX What, without asking, hither hurried _Whence_? And, without asking, _Whither_ hurried hence! Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine Must drown the memory of that insolence! XXXI Up from Earth’s Centre through the Seventh Gate I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, And many a Knot unravel’d by the Road; But not the Master-knot of Human Fate. XXXII There was the Door to which I found no Key; There was the Veil through which I might not see: Some little talk awhile of ME and THEE There was--and then no more of THEE and ME. LIV Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit Of This and That endeavour and dispute; Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit. LV You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse I made a Second Marriage in my house; Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed, And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse. LIX The Grape that can with Logic absolute The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute: The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice Life’s leaden metal into Gold transmute: LXI Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare? A Blessing, we should use it, should we not? And if a Curse--why, then, Who set it there? LXVIII We are no other than a moving row Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go Round with the Sun-illumin’d Lantern held In Midnight by the Master of the Show; LXIX But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days: Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays. LXX The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Here or There as strikes the Player goes; And He that toss’d you down into the Field, _He_ knows about it all--HE knows--HE knows! LXXII And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, Whereunder crawling coop’d we live and die, Lift not your hands to _It_ for help--for it As impotently moves as you or I. XCIII Indeed the Idols I have loved so long Have done my credit in this World much wrong: Have drown’d my Glory in a shallow Cup, And sold my Reputation for a Song. XCIV