The busy have no time for tears.
I've seen your stormy seas and stormy women, And pity lovers rather more than seamen.
I am surrounded here by parsons and methodists, but as you will see, not infested with the mania.
Land of lost gods and godlike men.
Well, well, the world must turn upon its axis, And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails, And live and die, make love and pay our taxes, And as the veering winds shift, shift our sails.
This is to be mortal, And seek the things beyond mortality.