CVII.

The other, deep and slow, exhausting thought,[kt] And hiving wisdom with each studious year, In meditation dwelt--with learning wrought, And shaped his weapon with an edge severe, Sapping a solemn creed with solemn sneer; The lord of irony,--that master-spell, Which stung his foes to wrath, which grew from fear[ku][345] And doomed him to the zealot's ready Hell, Which answers to all doubts so eloquently well.