The Lone One.
I hate to follow and I hate to lead.
Obedience? no! and ruling? no, indeed!
Wouldst fearful be in others' sight?
Then e'en thyself thou must affright:
The people but the Terror's guidance heed.
I hate to guide myself, I hate the fray.
Like the wild beasts I'll wander far afield.
In Error's pleasing toils I'll roam
Awhile, then lure myself back home,
Back home, and—to my self-seduction yield.
Seneca et hoc Genus omne.
They write and write (quite maddening me)
Their "sapient" twaddle airy,
As if 'twere primum scribere,
Yes! I manufacture ice:
Ice may help you to digest:
If you had much to digest,
How you would enjoy my ice!
My wisdom's A and final O
Was then the sound that smote mine ear.