• This is the end of the book
      Written by God.
    I am the earth he took,
      I am the sod,
    The wood and iron which he struck
      With his sounding rod.

    I am the reed that he blew:
      Once quietly
    By the riverside I grew,
      Till one day he
    Rooted me up and breathed a new
      Delirium in me.

    Would he had...