It seems all I believe, I have been taught
And given formulations predefined
So that I comprehend things as I ought
And not according to my private mind.
For what a danger to society
It were to have a skeptic heretic
Declare an alternate reality:
Oh, no—pronounce him lunatic or sick!
But still, my intimations will not fade
That something beyond measure, mass and force
Pervades the universe by which we’re made:
A cosmic intellect that is our Source.
Though I be ostracized for such a view,
It is the course I’ll ardently pursue.