Your theories so vast and vain,
What are they all but vapour
Which the cold workings of the brain
Precipitate on paper?
Your learning (if indeed you learn)
Is but a puny fraction
Of that sure knowledge that men earn
Who set their limbs in action.
If you would know that walks are good
Put intellect behind you;
Go, mount the hill and thrid the wood,
Let sun and shade enwind you.
The flimsy phantoms of your brains
Are blown away in tatters;
One platitude alone remains—
The only one which matters.
Once you have grasped these simple facts
There needs no further talking
(A futile process, which reacts
Injuriously on walking),
So you can take your stick and start,
A sadder man, but wiser;
And I can wish you, as we part,
Farewell and Gute Reise.
Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to His Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press
FOOTNOTES:
[1] I am not including the so-called dancer who shakes hands with his hostess, smiles genially round, and then edges to the door and goes home to bed.
[2] This was written in 1910: now perhaps the ‘Chocolate Soldier’ or the ‘Rosary’ should be substituted. But I hate the ‘Merry Widow’ so much that I gladly let the anachronism stand.
[3] De Mot. An. 7.
[4] Arguments are now proceeding about this, and it may prove that they did go along the Guildford-Ranmore Common track; in which case I withdraw the above.