For I Can Raise No Money By

O Heaven! That One Might Read The Book Of Fate, And See The Revolution Of The Times.

You Have But Mistook Me All The While... I Live By Bread Like You, Taste Grief, Feel Want, Need Friends. Conditioned Thus How Can You Call Me King?

O Most Delicate Fiend! Who Is't Can Read A Woman? Is There More?

What Ugly Sights Of Death Within Mine Eyes!

But Flies An Eagle Flight, Bold And Forth On, Leaving No Tract Behind.