The mines of knowledge are oft laid bare through the forked hazel wand of chance,
And in a mountain of quartz we find a grain of gold.
Of a truth, it were well to know all things, and to learn them all at once,
And what, though mortal insufficiency attain to small knowledge of any?
Man loveth exclusions, delighting in the sterile trodden path,
While the broad green meadow is jewelled with wild flowers:
And whether is it better with the many to follow a beaten track,
Or by eccentric wanderings to cull unheeded sweets?
When his reason yieldeth fruit, make thy child thy friend;
For a filial friend is a double gain, a diamond set in gold.