THE OPEN GROVE. 283 



Have ofttimes no connexion. Knowledge dwells 



In heads replete witli thoughts of other men : 



Wisdom, in minds attentive to their own. 



Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, 



The mere materials, with which wisdom huilds, 



Till smoothed, and squared, and fitted to its place, 



Does but encumhor, whom it seems t'enrich. 



Knowledge is proud, that it has learned so much : 



"Wisdom is humble, that it knows no more. 



Books are not seldom talismans and spells. 



By which the magic arts of shrewder wits 



Holds an unthinking multitude enthralled. 



Some to the fiiscination of a name 



Surrender judgment hoodwinked. Some the style 



Infatuates ; and, through labyrinths and wilds 



Of error, leads them by a tune entranced. 



Wliile sloth seduces more, too weak to bear 



The insupportable fatigue of thought ; 



And swallowing therefore, without pause or choice. 



The total grist unsifted, husks and all. 



But trees, and rivulets, and haunts of doer. 



And sheep-waUis, populous with bleating lambs. 



And groves, in which the primrose ere her time 



Peeps through the moss, that clothes the Hawthorn root. 



Deceive no student. Wisdom there, and truth, 



N"ot shy as in the world, and to be won 



By slow solicitation, seize at once 



The roving thought, and fix it on themselves.' 



