Twelve had struck. Our talk subsided.
We were comrades in the schools
By the world awhile divided —
Six sententious merry fools.
And I said, “We‘ ve talked of college,
Resurrecting callow youth.
But you since have lived; what knowledge
Have you gathered of the Truth?
And you first, most learned scholar,
Whom I‘ m proud to sit beside,
Speak: does wisdom sans a dollar
Leave you wholly satisfied?
You have walked, and never wavered,
In the paths the sages took
And three publishers have favoured
With a yet unpublished book.
The soul's garden you have weeded
Which we mortals trample through,
You love much we leave unheeded.
Speak, and let us learn of you.”
And the student thus proceeded,
As a gentle sigh he drew: