The Wicked to the Wise

“A brilliant mind, gone wrong!” ... O tell me, ye who throng The beehives of the world, grow ye not ever weary of this song? “The way our fathers went.” ... Yes, if our days were spent Sod-deep, beside our fathers’ bones, wise, needless were your argument. “The wisdom of the mass.” ... Thank God, it too shall pass Like the breathed film hiding the face grayly within the silvered glass. “All’s surely for the best!” ... Aye, so shall be confessed By your sons’ sons, marking where down we smote you as we onward pressed.