Carel Fabritius, The Goldfinch (1654)
Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted?—Mathew 5:13
Birdy in a comfortable cage,
it found the welkin in a rage.
Supposing all the world a stage,
it nursed the gifts it had for gage.
But what to do when mere outrage
does not suffice to mend the age,
and fate bedevils every page?
The sun looks down upon the sage,
the blind, the mad, the huddled masses—
it does not discriminate by classes,
privilege the quick and scorn the dead.
It's in no rush to get ahead,
expunge Indeed, promote Instead:
cares not who's leader, who the led.
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