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.
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