ON FOOLS AND
FOLLY
Love’s Folly
She
with whom all my thoughts dwell, is averse—
She loves another. He whom she
desires
Turns
to a fairer face. Another worse
For
me afflicted is with deeper fires.
Fie
on my love and me and him and her!
Fie
most on Love, this madness’ minister!
The Middle Sort
Easily
shalt thou the ignorant appease;
The
wise more easily is satisfied;
But
one who builds his raw and foolish pride
On a
little lore not God himself can please.
Obstinacy in Folly
Go,
with strong violence thy jewel tear
From
the fierce alligator’s yawning jaws;
Swim
the wild surges when they lash the air
Billow
on billow thundering without pause;
Or
set an angry serpent in thy hair
For
garland! Sooner shalt thou gain their ruth
Than
conquer the fool’s obstinate heart with truth.
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On the Same
Nay,
thou wilt find sweet oil in the sea-sands,
Press
them but firmly in thy strenuous hands:
The
desert-born mirage shall slake thy thirst,
Or
wandering through the earth thou shalt be first
To
find the horns of hares, who think’st to school
With
reason the prejudgments of the fool.
Obstinacy in Vice
Yea,
wouldst thou task thy muscles then the dread
Strength
of the mammoth to constrain with thread,
Canst
thou the diamond’s adamant heart disclose
With
the sweet edge and sharpness of a rose,
With
a poor drop of honey wondrously
Wilt
thou make sweetness of the wide salt sea,
Who
dream’st with sugared perfect words to gain
The
unhonest to the ways of noble men.
Folly’s Wisdom
One
cloak on ignorance absolutely fits;
Justly
if worn, some grace is even lent;
Silence
in sessions of the learned sits
On
the fool’s brow like a bright ornament.
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A Little Knowledge
When
I was with a little knowledge cursed,
Like
a mad elephant I stormed about
And
thought myself all-knowing. But when deep-versed
Rich
minds some portion of their wealth disbursed
My
poverty to raise, then for a lout
And
dunce I knew myself, and the insolence went
Out
from me like a fever violent.
Pride of Littleness
The
dog upon a meatless bone and lank
Horrible,
stinking, vile, with spittle wet,
Feasts
and with heaven’s nectar gives it rank.
Then
though the ambrosial God should by him stand,
He
is not awed nor feels how base his fate,
But
keeps his ghastly gettings more in hand.
The
little nature deems its small things great
And
virtue scorns and strength and noble state.
Facilis Descensus
In
highest heavens the Ganges’ course began;
From
Shiva’s loftiest brow to the white snows
She
tumbles, nor on the cold summits can,
But
headlong seeks the valley and the rose.
Thence
downward still the heaven-born waters ran.
Say
not, “Is this that Ganges ? can her place
Be
now so low?” Rather when man at all
From
heavenly reason swerves, he sinks from grace
Swiftly.
A thousand voices downward call,
A
thousand doors are opened to his fall.
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The Great Incurable
For
all ill things there is a cure; the fire’s
Red
spleen cool water shall at once appease,
And
noontide’s urgent rays the sunshade tires,
And
there are spells for poison, and disease
Finds
in the leech’s careful drugs its ease.
The
raging elephant yet feels the goad,
And
the dull ass and obstinate bullock rule
Cudgel
and stick and force upon their road.
For
one sole plague no cure is found — the fool.
Bodies without Mind
Some
minds there are to Art and Beauty dead,
Music
and poetry on whose dull ear
Fall
barren. Horns grace not their brutish head,
Tails
too they lack, yet is their beasthood clear.
That
Heaven ordained not upon grass their feasts,
Good
fortune is this for the other beasts.
The Human Herd
Whose
days to neither charity nor thought
Are
given, nor holy deeds nor virtues prized,
Nor
learning, such to cumber earth were brought.
How
in the human world as men disguised
This
herd walk grazing, higher things unsought!
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A Choice
Better
were this, to roam in deserts wild,
On
difficult mountains and by desolate pools,
A
savage life with wild beasts reconciled,
Than
Paradise itself mated with fools.
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