Classic Poem

Does she who rules the sea rule the Thesaurus?
And must the tide of adolescent rage,
which floods philosophy into the mind,
recede as one grows old and words come slow?
I have an hour-glass of years in my
receding hair. Burke's hair is gray.
But we have pimples that blossom with the Spring.
The destinies of thinkers are quick words
which come between themselves and their slow thought.
Socratic knowledge of processes of knowing
is now distilled to a maxim of cold poison:
" Know thyself. " Do you prefer the ant-like
Freud to the bearded Leonardo, weaver
of all the web of knowing, but self-knowledge?

William James lies in a broadcloth box
with silver handles, Pragmatism, three
syllables beginning with a P.
His father said that he found Swedenborg
fairly insipid with veracity.
Are all the wheeling ages turned as vain
as the flutter of these sages' paper prayers?
No, never, while the quintessential charm;
" I, I, the It, Self, I,
Who, where, when and why? "

of Mary Baker Eddy, Sorceress, stands; and it shall stand!