From my debased position on the floor
My outward view is bounded by the splay
Of Duggie’s leg. No matter how I may
Contort myself I can see nothing more
Than objects two feet high. I see a score
Of bulbous chairlegs yellow in a ray
Of sunshine; where their silent sitters, pray?
All seem disjointed where I peer and bore.
Upon this view I dare not try to base
Any resultant thought and be content,
For thus my whole conception would be false.
And yet we grovelers on this earth’s low face
Reason our reasons with quite fixed intent
On what we see, nor will believe aught else!
5. 3. 29