Vain, very vain, my weary search to find That bliss which only centres in the mind.
Vain, very vain, my weary search to find That bliss which only centres in the mind.
The mind is ever ingenious in making its own distress.
The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind.
Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain, With grammar, and nonsense, and learning, Good liquor, I stoutly maintain, Gives genius a better discerning.
Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat To persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote. Who too deep for his hearers still went on refining, And thought of convincing while they thought of dining Though equal to all things, for all things unfit Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit.
Logicians have but ill defined As rational the human mind. Logic, they say, belongs to man, But let them prove it if they can.
Vain, very vain is my search to find that happiness which only centers in the mind.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories