Betise

Blunt brain such stale dogma holds Tighter than crags hug dewy molds; She spurns sparks Reason confers, And terms sanest wit profitless fuss. Sweetest rank her outmoded views, Above strictest sense and full clues; Cherished most within inured cloud Are her trite thought frail and proud. Proffer sure-shining cachings of gold For faintest morsel of heresies retold, And she'll a more precious jewel find Brighter still under Diablo's airier rind. Her creed says receive and cede not Wild bootless notions simpletons got; Let benevolent Logic his carats keep, And her inane whims have their leap. Her wild treasures heavier than lead Shall endless grace that jaded head, Until wilier ticks of blind-mute clocks Hit Eternal Proof that sees and talks.