their bellies Before little round things, They adore all that falleth not down— These last servants of God Believers (in reality)! 50 They made their God out of nothing, What wonder if now he is naught? 51 Ye loftier men! There have once been More thoughtful times, more reflective, Than is our to-day and to-morrow. 52 Our time is like a sick woman— Let her but shriek, rave, scold, And break the tables and dishes! 54 Ye mount? Is it true that ye mount, Ye loftier men? Are ye not,
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