PROTEST OF A YOUNG INTELLECTUAL
God never plucks me by the sleeve
And begs for my advice,
And since He doesn't all His works
Leave me cold as ice.
The dust of all the vulgar moons
And planets overhead
Is just the same inferior dirt
I daily spurn and tread.
Considering the soul I have,
I think it quite unfair
That all the air I get to breathe
Is ordinary air!
Considering the thoughts I think
And state with every breath
It's odd my views have not been asked
Concerning life and death.
Considering my brains, 'tis strange --
(If it is nothing worse!)
That God has not consulted me
About the universe.
Since God does naught but frown at me,
I shall do more than frown!
I'll start a Pale Brown Magazine
And shake the Cosmos down!
God never plucks me by the sleeve
And begs for my advice,
And since He doesn't all His works
Leave me cold as ice.
The dust of all the vulgar moons
And planets overhead
Is just the same inferior dirt
I daily spurn and tread.
Considering the soul I have,
I think it quite unfair
That all the air I get to breathe
Is ordinary air!
Considering the thoughts I think
And state with every breath
It's odd my views have not been asked
Concerning life and death.
Considering my brains, 'tis strange --
(If it is nothing worse!)
That God has not consulted me
About the universe.
Since God does naught but frown at me,
I shall do more than frown!
I'll start a Pale Brown Magazine
And shake the Cosmos down!