In wax that Icarus used for wings

And helped melt Alexandria down

With Papal Bulls in German towns.

Let the concave mirrors flame

Papyrus ships that float the dead

Down Lethean sands as words gush red

And staffs squirm as snakes again.

Paste a mummy with the scraps

Grecian scribes threw out, or

Hid in caves where goats played round

The lettered skins of ancient sires.

Unless some boy throw a rock

And find a few old scrolls to hock

That wear all inquisitions out

Scoring rock with acid doubt

Until holes dug with Aaron's rod

Are smoothed to cover King and God.

Edwin F. Kagin