VAGRANT VERSE
A METAI’HYSIC “CUL DE SAC.” We know, —indeed, we know we do not know: We think, —but what, my masters, whit is Thought? The mystery with which the Mind ia fraught Mind cannot solve: We sec, —yet who can show We see things as they are? Ideas grow,—• Who knows from what or how? As leaflets caught Up by the passing wind, thoughts com* unsought, Then flee away, and whither do they got Our senses may a web of fancies weave; Our brain we fain would use to test our brain: Yea, what Perception is we would perceive; And out of nothing we would something gain: We cannot prove, and yet we would believe, Since Unbelief itself ia worse than vain. —Samuel Waddington (in “The Aca# . (hmy.'’ Jaa, J. 1881 j,
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ST19220330.2.19
Bibliographic details
Southland Times, Issue 19478, 30 March 1922, Page 4
Word Count
133VAGRANT VERSE Southland Times, Issue 19478, 30 March 1922, Page 4
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