Classics

I am more than what you see; My ending is a mystery. Four sides of one I slice in twain, And cause the mind eternal pain. Men who tried to get to my root Were killed for finding out this truth. (Man and the world's irrational; To murder, thus, is natural.) In constance I will be your compass; Start due north, then head east-south-west. You shall find there, (not in Latin,) The utterance of a man once saddened To find in heart of noble youth The aforementioned ignoble truth. Fixed as a star, his words remain; _____ _____ is his name.