You yet remain the wisest of the Greeks,
Odysseus – and wiser far than those
Implausible and un-Hellenic freaks
From whom the piss of condemnation flows
In your sublime direction. Hold your nose
Against the acrid odor – but refrain
From feeling that the stars of these slack shows
Affect your glory. All that noise is vain.
Lord: Fr. Wetta never had a brain,
And what in Hades is the Scholar Shea?
How can the farts of such base pigs pertain?
How can it matter, what they have to say?
Century after fleeting century,
You are the model of sagacity.