Page:Lalla Rookh - Moore - 1817.djvu/45

 I'll sweep my darkening, desolating way, "Weak man my instrument, curst man my prey!

"Ye wise, ye learned, who grope your dull way on "By the dim twinkling gleams of ages gone, "Like superstitious thieves who think the light "From dead men's marrow guides them best at night -- "Ye shall have honors--wealth--yes, Sages, yes-- "I know, grave fools, your wisdom's nothingness; "Undazzled it can track yon starry sphere, "But a gilt stick, a bauble blinds it here. "How I shall laugh, when trumpeted along "In lying speech and still more lying song, "By these learned slaves, the meanest of the throng; "Their wits brought up, their wisdom shrunk so small, "A sceptre's puny point can wield it all!

"Ye too, believers of incredible creeds, "Whose faith enshrines the monsters which it breeds; "