Hath attributes. This sand is gold :—
Deem’st thou a gilder lurks within
The atom? What should Nature hold
Of aureate save a mind begin
Colour-conception? Then we win
To think our thought itself a chance
Grafted upon the circumstance
Of cerebrin and lethicin.
A. Til fares the rifleman that holds
The muzzle to his eye. Yon gold’s
Mental: enough! the mind is all.
N. No: this is but a slave in thrall
To matter’s motion. We deny
A causeless cause, an entity
Beyond experience, that tricks
Our folly with his idle claim
To be because we feel it.
A. Sticks
The reason there?
N. We choose a name
To cover all the host of facts
Comprised in thought.
A. (aside) The elixir acts.
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