I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.

Once in a golden hour, I cast to earth a seed, And up there grew a flower, That others called a weed.

Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good, Or propagate again her loathèd kind, Thronging the cells of the diseased mind, Hateful with hanging cheeks, a withered brood, Though hourly pastured on the salient blood?

Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control; these three alone lead one to sovereign power.

And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles whom we knew.

Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long