My Head

My head! my head! the day is come
I never, never thought to see;
When all, with fingers and a thumb,
May to thy chambers have a key!

That is, if thou wouldst but submit
To come beneath the learned touch,
And let the judge in judgment sit
Upon thy bumps, that prove so much.

I used to think our heads might let
Their own contents, at will, be shown;
I never thought mankind could get
An outward way to make them known.

But now the sapient hand has cut
The matter short, and all may tell
Thy value, as they 'd prize a nut,
And know the kernel by the shell.

If half the light, that has been thrown
On heads, were only poured within,
Thou wouldst not thus be left to own
The darkness that is now thy sin.

But, while the world is in a blaze
Of purely phrenoiogie light,
Thou, wildered thing, art in a maze,
And destitute of faith and sight.

They use a thousand meaning words
Thou couldst not utter or define,
Of which, to tell the truth, three thirds
Were gravel, in a mouth like thine.

They hold me out an empty skull,
To show the powers of living brains:
'T is just like feeling of the hull,
To tell what goods the ship contains.

And, whether nature or mishap
Have raised the bump, 't is all the same;
The sage's crown, or dunce's cap
Must be awarded as its claim.

This hobby, that so many sit,
And manage with such ease and grace,
I dare not try with rein or bit.
It seems so of the donkey race.

And yet, my head, no doubt, 't is all
A fault of thine, a want of sight,
That so much said by Combe and Gall
And Spurzheim cannat turn thee right.

I know not what thy case may be,—
If thou art hollow, or opaque;
I only know thou canst not see,
And faith declines one step to take.

This burst of light has turned thee numb,
Depriving thee of every sense;
So now, if tried, thou must be dumb,
Nor say one word in self-defence!