One said: Thy life is thine to make or mar, To flicker feebly, or to soar, a star; It lies with thee - the choice is thine, is thine, To hit the ties or drive thy auto-car. ...
I sought Him on the purple seas, I sought Him on the peaks aflame; Amid the gloom of giant trees And canyons lone I called His name; The wasted ways of earth I trod: In vain! In vain! I found not God....
When you're lost in the Wild, and you're scared as a child, And Death looks you bang in the eye, And you're sore as a boil, it's according to Hoyle To cock your revolver and . . . die....