"I grant you ample leave
 To use the hoary formula 'I am'
 Naming the emptiness where thought is not;
 But fill the void with definition, 'I'
 Will be no more a datum than the words
 You link false inference with, the 'Since'& 'so'
 That, true or not, make up the atom-whirl.
 Resolve your 'Ego', it is all one web
 With vibrant ether clotted into worlds:
 Your subject, self, or self-assertive 'I'
 Turns nought but object, melts to molecules,
 Is stripped from naked Being with the rest
 Of those rag-garments named the Universe.
 Or if, in strife to keep your 'Ego'strong
 You make it weaver of the etherial light,
 Space, motion, solids & the dream of Time --
 Why, still 'tis Being looking from the dark,
 The core, the centre of your consciousness,
 That notes your bubble-world: sense, pleasure, pain,
 What are they but a shifting otherness,
 Phantasmal flux of moments? --"