They say I'm mad because I stare

And look as tho' they were not there,

Because I only speak when aught

Occurs to me by way of thought.

Instead of serving Fashion's creeds,

I cut my coat to fit my needs.

I laugh at grief and only weep

When noisy life disturbs my sleep.

My dreams are delicate and wild;

Was ever wise man so beguiled ?-

Mad, am I mad !-then pray that you

May some day hope for madness too!