THE PHILOSOPHERS
The best of true philosophers Are the children, after all,--The children with laughing hearts And the serious field and ball:
They have a bowl and bubbles, And hours where rainbows are;They find, if ever the sun is hid, In every dark a star.
But, O, the sorry men that make The wise books of our day!
They cannot smile athwart a cloud, When black thoughts lead astray;They cannot add a simple sum, But talk like drunken men, And shut their eyes to keep out God When spring comes in again.
Far simpler than the Rule of Three Are the laws of earth and sky;Yet fools will muddle all true thought, And pride will have its cry;The banners with their deadly words Go reeling on unfurled, And sin and sadness march along To the heartbreak of the world.
