Prelude

Life is a riddle, deep, majestic, grand, For all to solve, but few to understand; ’Tis a strange world, some say with stoic bliss, And straightway vow this globe hath gone amiss; While some presume and some soliloquise, “There’s less in wisdom than in seeming wise;” “Silence is golden,” spake of old the sage, The rule holds good in our distempered age; Then silence keep and learn from meaner things, From which full many a goodly lesson springs. Grasp not the shadow that first meets your eyes, For somewhere near the substance always lies; A simple story serves to tell the fate Of many a brain-dashed, vaunting shallow pate.