Trifles :: :: University of Virginia Library

But leaving these to rove, and those to doubt,
Another clan alarms us; face about:
See, arm'd with grave authority they come,
And with great names and numbers strike us dumb.
With these an error ven'rable appears,
For having been believ'd three thousand years.
Reason, nay common sense, to names must fall,
And strength of argument's no strength at all.
But on, my muse, tho' multitudes oppose us,
Alas! truth is not prov'd by counting noses:
Nor fear, tho' ancient sages are subjoin'd;
A lie's a lie, tho' told by all mankind.
'Tis true, I love the ancients—but what then?
Plato and Aristotle were but men.
I grant 'em wise—the wisest disagree,
And therefore no sufficient guides for me.
An error, tho' by half the world espous'd,
Is still an error, and may be oppos'd;
And truth, tho' much from mortal eyes conceal'd,
Is still the truth, and may be more reveal'd.
How foolish then will look your mighty wise,
Should half their ipse dixits prove plain lies!