The poems of Thomas Bailey Aldrich | ||
369
KNOWLEDGE
Knowledge—who hath it? Nay, not thou,Pale student, pondering thy futile lore!
After a space it shall be thine, as now
'T is his whose funeral passes at thy door.
Couldst thou but see with those deep-sealèd eyes,
What lore were thine! The Dead alone are wise.
The poems of Thomas Bailey Aldrich | ||