The morning precious: beauty was awake!

Why were ye not awake! But ye were dead

To things ye knew not of—were closely wed

To musty laws lined out with wretched rule

And compass vile: so that ye taught a school

Of dolts to smooth, inlay, and clip and fit

Till, like the certain wands of Jacob’s wit,

Their verses tallied; Easy was the task

A thousand handicraftsmen wore the mask

Of Poesy.[253]