Uncollected Poems of James Russell Lowell :: :: University of Virginia Library

VIII

Or more like one who makes his choice among
Some dozen garments in their latest stage,
Whose gaping mouths, could they have found a tongue,
Had told full many a tale of fortune's rage,—
So I,—for all things have been said or sung
In this long-winded pathobathic age,
Who let philosophers (God wot!) command 'em,
Because they (honest souls!) can't understand 'em.