The Warriors

Poemata, XVII

They have some idea of philosophy, it’s said
Some think their philosophy the best of all
But what it is that goes through their head
Would not be “philosophy”, so called
No love of wisdom, or knowledge is there
No knowledge really, for those who care
No path above the senses, the Fall
Does not disturb the path they tear;

When threatened with a noose or plank
They may begin to philosophize;
Those that can. Perhaps we thank
Our schooling amiss; I realize
Chances favors an ancestor of mine
Was such a folly and human crime—
Before he wielded the assize
And was their educator in time.

Once in awhile, an impossible thing
Transpires, such a one is loyal
And not a dog; a falcon-on-wing
Worthless otherwise, but a foil
Uncomplicated man, victor sometimes
Always fights but rarely rhymes
Sport of noble blood, wins spoil
In triumphs, not in crimes.