To Rousseau

An apology I make for my science
Of art and letter, called Poesy keen:
When I read the Eastern Sages
I see great discourse, and encouragement
To learn. When I see Pythagoras, 
I see also, a meeting of the minds.
When I see Christ, I see a premier philosopher.
When I read Keats talking of the billow
Of a foam on his beer, in Spencer's Dedication
I understand it to be light praise, not high.
Thus, I have light praise for you.

It is true, capricious scholars, with doubtful ability
Do glean from knowledge tares instead of wheat.
But, it is doubly so, that Arts and Sciences
Are what make our world good.
For, you said, "There can be no luxury without them."
Yes... indeed... I want luxury, but also work.
Man is more than sinew and flesh for working in a Potter's Field.
I want morality and art and sciences;---
Who could imagine such a thing?
Well I can, and that is why there ought to be poetry.
For the worker, coming home from the field
Then sits in his study, and reads a line or two
Or watches a program, or listens to a score
Or gazes upon a beautiful painting and muses on the artist's intent.
This is a good life, which only the vilest fool would be against.