His contempt has no bound his Love's depth none can sound:
His wrath on men of God is tempered in manner odd.
Nurtured in mimicry's gloom, to tread like sheep his doom;
But he is much inclined to creative bent of mind.
In midst of surging throng, he keeps aloof for long:
Like lamp, he lights the hall, but has not mate at all.
Faqr can like sun of morn with light the mead adorn:
Its speech is frank and free, though meanings tenuous be.
Its views vary with the rest, it deems them right and best;
Its innate slates unknown to mystics with renown. |
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