The poem
So crystal clear it is to me That when I die I cease to be, All else seems sheer stupidity.
All promises of Paradise Are wishful thinking, preacher's lies, Dogmatic dust flung in our eyes.
Yea, life's immortal, swift it flows Alike in reptile and in rose, But as it comes, so too it goes.
Dead roses will not bloom again; The lifeless lizard writhes in vain; Cups shattered will not hold champagne.
Our breath is brief, and being so Let's make our heaven here below, And lavish kindness as we go.
For when dour Death shall close the door There will be darkness evermore; So let us kneel in prayer before
Each day and let our duty be To fight that mankind may be free . . . There is our Immortality.