University of Man is dead. Tear your sack cloth, shave your heads, pour out the ashes and gnash your teeth.
At midnight in the silence of the sleep-time,
When you set your fancies free,
Will they pass to where–by death, fools think, imprisoned,
Low he lies who once so loved you, whom you so loved,
Oh to love so, be so loved, yet so mistaken!
What had I on earth to do
With the slothful, with the mawkish, the unmanly?
Like the aimless, helpless, hopeless, did I drivel
One who never turned his back but marched breast forward,
Never doubted clouds would break,
Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph,
Held we fall to rise, are baffled to figher better,
Sleep to wake.
No, at noonday in the bustle of man’s work-time
Greet the unseen with a cheer!
Bid him forward, breast and back as either should be,
‘Strive and thrive!’ cry, ‘Speed,–fight on, fare ever
There as here!'”
-Browning, Epilogue to Asolando
Mentu, Ashur, Professors, fare thee well.
Veritas numquam perit,