Burn away—I 've lived my day! Yet here 's the sting in death—
I 've an author's pride: I want my Book's survival:
See, I 've hid it in my breast to warm me 'mid the rags and tatters!
Save it—tell next age your Master had no rival!
Scholar's debt discharged in full, be 'Thanks' my latest breath!"
"Faugh, the frowsy bundle—scribblings harum-scarum
Scattered o'er a dozen sheepskins! What 's the name of this farrago?
Ha—'Conciliator Differentiarum'—
Man and book may burn together, cause the world no loss!
Stop—what else? A tractate—eh, 'De Speciebus