Song is not Truth, not Wisdom, but the rose Upon Truths lips, the light in Wisdom's eyes..

Hate and mistrust are the children of blindness..

Threadbare his songs seem now, to lettered ken: They were worn threadbare next the hearts of men..

The after-silence, when the feast is o'er,And void the places where the minstrels stood,Differs in nought from what hath been before,And is nor ill n….