Between my index finger and my thumb I hold the earth. I spin it as I will. Ocean and isle are mine. The waves are still When I command. And potentates are dumb. Where is the man who can compute the sum Of days that Time enfolds for good or ill? -- Though Time itself must bide the hour until I shall reveal the end of time is come. A cloud of servants wait but to obey; My prophets have I sent to write my law; And footprints tell the wise where I have trod. Yet though the heavens tell my glory aye, And angels hold my majesty in awe ... The fool says in his heart, @3There is no God@1. |