XIV

2 0 00

XIV

But even thus not now-a-days!

In spite of common sense we’re wont

As ciphers others to appraise,

Ourselves as unities to count;

And like Napoleons each of us

A million bipeds reckons thus

One instrument for his own use⁠—

Feeling is silly, dangerous.

Eugene, more tolerant than this

(Though certainly mankind he knew

And usually despised it too),

Exceptionless as no rule is,

A few of different temper deemed,

Feeling in others much esteemed.