Who’s free?—the scholar?—no; not he
The slave of printed paper,
Who where the sun is free to see,
Lights his own twinkling taper,
And from much nonsense picks some sense
And makes a mighty clamour,
And strangles living eloquence
In mummy bands of grammar.
from John Stuart Blackie (1809-1895), There is None Free But Jove, in his Messis Vitae: Gleanings of Song from a Happy Life (London: Macmillan and Co., 1886), pp. 64-66. thanks.