We were left to tell the tale.

Came one day into the wood-land,

Muckintosh, the great and mighty,

Muckintosh, the famous thinker,

He whose brain was all his weapons,

As against his rival's soarings,

High unto the vaulted heavens,

Low adown the swarded earth,

Rolled he round his gaze all steely,

And his voice like music prayed:

"Oh, Creator, wondrous Spirit,

Thou who hast for us descended

In the guise of knowledge mighty,

And our brains with truth o'er-flooded;

In the greatness of thy wisdom,

Knowest not our limitations?

Wondrous thoughts have we, thy servants,

Wondrous things we see each day,

Yet we cannot tell our brethren,

Yet we cannot let them know,

 Prev. P 33/88 next