CONCLUSION.
(EDITORIAL.)
Doubtless I might go on to quote,
With added paraphrase and note,
Precept on precept, line on line,
To instance here the fact divine
That of her children, far and wide,
Wisdom is always justified.
Yet why oppress with proof of that,
Since "verbum sapienti sat"?
Suffice it to have struck the vein,
And shown some specimens of ore;
If any seek for further gain,
The mine still holds abundance more.
A mental pickaxe and a biggin
Are all you need to go to diggin'.
For, as the Swedish seer contends,
All things comprise an inner sense;
There's nothing we can write or say,
In howsoever simple way,
But seems a body, built to hide
The soul that straightway is supplied;
And many a fool, and prophet too,
Hath spoken wiser than he knew.
One parting word, and I am gone:
If I 've prevailed to make you see
These things as they appear to me,
Then have I proved my Goose a Swan
And I, small fledgling of the line,
Yet proud to bear the ancient name,
May, for this ancestress of mine,
Claim place upon the page of fame;
That not a bard of Saxon tongue
More true to nature ever sung:
More surely soothed, more deeply taught,
Or passing fact more keenly caught;
And that—exalted side by side
With him of Avon, in the pride
And love of millions—we should lay
The tribute at her feet to-day
That owns her, in this latter age,
Goose, truly,—but, in savor, Sage!