The Scholars

William Butler Yeats

Bald heads forgetful of their sins,

Old, learned, respectable bald heads

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That young men, tossing on their beds,

Rhumed out in love's despair

To flatter beauty's ignorant ear.


All shuffle there, all cough in ink;

All wear the carpet with their shoes;

All think what other people think;

All know the man their neighbor knows.

Lord, what would they say

Did their Catullus walk that way?