118
Thus came, one day, to Blasio’s wicket
Some strong hints and a railway ticket;
And, sick at last of screeching dogma
To empty walls, he took the first
And last, and left the Sondrian quagmire,
First shaking off its mire accurst;
And therewith learned two truths at least,—
That deep of ignorance is the thirst;
And that, while earth spins west to east,
Rome remains Rome, and priest a priest.