Madmoments: or First Verseattempts By a Bornnatural. Addressed to the Lightheaded of Society at Large, by Henry Ellison |
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 | Madmoments: or First Verseattempts |  |
BOOKWISDOM.
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Books, Books, like painted Windowglass,Break and discolor Truth's pure Light
Which else into our Souls would pass
From all Life's Forms, direct and bright
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We will not see Things as they are,We disjoint and anatomize
And sever them, until they bear
No meaning to our purblind Eyes.
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We stick them on our Studyshelf,And then with Spectacles on nose,
Pore o'er them, 'till e'en Nature's self
A profitless Enigma grows!
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And by the dim Nightlamp we weighOpinions jumbled, white and black,
Where for one Clue to show the Way
A thousand lead us from the Track!
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And when beneath God's blessed LightWe see things as they really are,
They dazzle the poor Bookworm's Sight,
And colored Glasses he must wear.
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The World seems in a Whirl; so strange,So rapid, varied, crowded, new
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Beyond the Circle which he drew,
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That Magiccircle in which heDreamt that all Wisdom surely lay,
And that beyond it none could see
Right by the vulgar Light of Day,
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Down from the King unto the ClownSo different the living Men
From that which he before had known,
Philosophy's stuffed Specimen!
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Then he applies to this and thatThe most approved Booktheory,
But finds that it will not come pat
When tested by Reality,
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Philosophy's Airwheel stands stillThat grinds Abstractions down and chops
Up Logic, but plain, hard Facts will
Cause Friction, and all Movement stops!
| Madmoments: or First Verseattempts | |