 | New Poems by George Crabbe |  |
I knew her well, and oft have been misled
By her seduction, and have wondered on
Where I have slept on Folly's easy bed,
And, waking, found my fickle flatterer gone—
In these you cannot true contentment find,
But one there is whom some affect to know,
Who stiles herself the pilot of the mind,
A grave, majestic being, solemn, slow—
—Wise and dispensing wisdom—we must own
That some thing in her like content we see,
But she disputes on Words and things unknown,
And is no more than vain philosophy.
By her seduction, and have wondered on
Where I have slept on Folly's easy bed,
And, waking, found my fickle flatterer gone—
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But one there is whom some affect to know,
Who stiles herself the pilot of the mind,
A grave, majestic being, solemn, slow—
—Wise and dispensing wisdom—we must own
That some thing in her like content we see,
But she disputes on Words and things unknown,
And is no more than vain philosophy.
| New Poems by George Crabbe | |