Each twirls about and never stops, And as he can he fareth. The crooked
leaps, the clumsy hops, Nor for appearance careth.
To take each other's life, I trow, Would cordially delight them! As Orpheus'
lyre the beasts, so now The bagpipe doth unite them.
My views, in spite of doubt and sneer, I hold with stout persistence, Inferring
from the devils here, The evil one's existence.
My every sense rules Phantasy With sway quite too potential; Sure I'm
demented if the I Alone is the essential.