Margaret’s Song

Image
  There was a king in Thule,  True even to the grave;  To whom his dying mistress  A golden beaker gave.  At every feast he drained it,  Naught was to him so dear,  And often as he drained it,  Gush’d from his eyes the tear.  When death came, unrepining  His cities o’er he told;  All to his heir resigning,  Except his cup of gold.  With many a knightly vassal  At a royal feast sat he,  In yon proud hall ancestral,  In his castle o’er the sea.  Up stood the jovial monarch,  And quaff’d his last life’s glow,  Then hurled the hallow’d goblet  Into the flood below.  He saw it splashing, drinking,  And plunging in the sea;  His eyes meanwhile were sinking,  And never again drank he. “Margaret’s Song” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832) in “Faust. Part I.”

"Has Science Buried God?"

"If atheism is true, what is 'thinking'? What is 'reason'? Well the answer has to be that it's merely a chemical process. If atheism is true and there is no God, what's going on between my ears right now are just chemical fizzing, atoms knocking together. But if that's true, how can I trust my thinking?"

Popular posts from this blog

Rock Me, Epictetus!

The Smooth-flowing Life