Society and the World

The Reckoning

LEADER.
LET no cares now hover o'er us
Let the wine unsparing run!


Wilt thou swell our merry chorus?
Hast thou all thy duty done?
SOLO.
Two young folks--the thing is curious--
Loved each other; yesterday


Both quite mild, to-day quite furious,


Next day, quite the deuce to pay!
If her neck she there was stooping,
He must here needs pull his hair.

I revived their spirits drooping,
And they're now a happy pair.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.
SOLO.
Why, young orphan, all this wailing?
"Would to heaven that I were dead!


For my guardian's craft prevailing


Soon will make me beg my bread."
Knowing well the rascal genus,
Into court I dragg'd the knave;

Fair the judges were between us,
And the maiden's wealth did save.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!



Let the bumper then go round!
For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.
SOLO.

To a little fellow, quiet,
Unpretending and subdued,
Has a big clown, running riot,

Been to-day extremely rude.

I bethought me of my duty,
And my courage swell'd apace,
So I spoil'd the rascal's beauty,

Slashing him across the face.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.
SOLO.
Brief must be my explanation,
For I really have done nought.


Free from trouble and vexation,


I a landlord's business bought.
There I've done, with all due ardour,
All that duty order'd me;

Each one ask'd me for the larder,
And there was no scarcity.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.



LEADER.
Each should thus make proclamation
Of what he did well to-day!


That's the match whose conflagration


Should inflame our tuneful lay.
Let it be our precept ever
To admit no waverer here!


For to act the good endeavour,
None but rascals meek appear.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
We have now in rapture drown'd.
TRIO.
Let each merry minstrel enter,
He's right welcome to our hall!


'Tis but with the selfÄtormentor
That we are not liberal;
For we fear that his caprices,
That his eye-brows dark and sad,


That his grief that never ceases
Hide an empty heart, or bad.
CHORUS.
No one now for wine shall languish!
Here no minstrel shall be found,


Who all sighs and groans of anguish,
Has not first in rapture drown'd!

The Reckoning

LEADER.
LET no cares now hover o'er us
Let the wine unsparing run!


Wilt thou swell our merry chorus?
Hast thou all thy duty done?
SOLO.
Two young folks--the thing is curious--
Loved each other; yesterday


Both quite mild, to-day quite furious,


Next day, quite the deuce to pay!
If her neck she there was stooping,
He must here needs pull his hair.

I revived their spirits drooping,
And they're now a happy pair.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.
SOLO.
Why, young orphan, all this wailing?
"Would to heaven that I were dead!


For my guardian's craft prevailing


Soon will make me beg my bread."
Knowing well the rascal genus,
Into court I dragg'd the knave;

Fair the judges were between us,
And the maiden's wealth did save.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!



Let the bumper then go round!
For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.
SOLO.

To a little fellow, quiet,
Unpretending and subdued,
Has a big clown, running riot,

Been to-day extremely rude.

I bethought me of my duty,
And my courage swell'd apace,
So I spoil'd the rascal's beauty,

Slashing him across the face.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.
SOLO.
Brief must be my explanation,
For I really have done nought.


Free from trouble and vexation,


I a landlord's business bought.
There I've done, with all due ardour,
All that duty order'd me;

Each one ask'd me for the larder,
And there was no scarcity.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.



LEADER.
Each should thus make proclamation
Of what he did well to-day!


That's the match whose conflagration


Should inflame our tuneful lay.
Let it be our precept ever
To admit no waverer here!


For to act the good endeavour,
None but rascals meek appear.
CHORUS.
Surely we for wine may languish!
Let the bumper then go round!


For all sighs and groans of anguish
We have now in rapture drown'd.
TRIO.
Let each merry minstrel enter,
He's right welcome to our hall!


'Tis but with the selfÄtormentor
That we are not liberal;
For we fear that his caprices,
That his eye-brows dark and sad,


That his grief that never ceases
Hide an empty heart, or bad.
CHORUS.
No one now for wine shall languish!
Here no minstrel shall be found,


Who all sighs and groans of anguish,
Has not first in rapture drown'd!

The Pariah - Legend

WATER-FETCHING goes the noble
Brahmin's wife, so pure and lovely;
He is honour'd, void of blemish.
And of justice rigid, stern.
Daily from the sacred river
Brings she back refreshments precious;--
But where is the pail and pitcher?
She of neither stands in need.
For with pure heart, hands unsullied,
She the water lifts, and rolls it
To a wondrous ball of crystal
This she bears with gladsome bosom,
Modestly, with graceful motion,
To her husband in the house.


She to-day at dawn of morning
Praying comes to Ganges' waters,
Bends her o'er the glassy surface--
Sudden, in the waves reflected,
Flying swiftly far above her,
From the highest heavens descending,
She discerns the beauteous form
Of a youth divine, created
By the God's primeval wisdom
In his own eternal breast.


When she sees him, straightway feels she
Wondrous, new, confused sensations
In her inmost, deepest being;
Fain she'd linger o'er the vision,
Then repels it,--it returneth,--
And, perplex'd, she bends her flood-wards
With uncertain hands to draw it;
But, alas, she draws no more!
For the water's sacred billows
Seem to fly, to hasten from her;
She but sees the fearful chasm
Of a whirlpool black disclosed.


Arms drop down, and footsteps stumble,
Can this be the pathway homewards?
Shall she fly, or shall she tarry?
Can she think, when thought and counsel,
When assistance all are lost?
So before her spouse appears she--
On her looks he--look is judgment--
Proudly on the sword he seizes,
To the hill of death he drags her,
Where delinquents' blood pays forfeit.
What resistance could she offer?
What excuses could she proffer,
Guilty, knowing not her guilt?



And with bloody sword returns he,
Musing, to his silent dwelling,
When his son before him stands:
"Whose this blood? Oh, father! father!"
"The delinquent woman's!"--"Never!
For upon the sword it dries not,
Like the blood of the delinquent;
Fresh it flows, as from the wound.
Mother! mother! hither hasten!
Unjust never was my father,
Tell me what he now hath done."-"
Silence! silence! hers the blood is!"
"Whose, my father?"--"Silence! Silence!"
"What! oh what! my mother's blood!
What her crime? What did she? Answer!
Now, the sword! the sword now hold I;
Thou thy wife perchance might'st slaughter,
But my mother might'st not slay!
Through the flames the wife is able
Her beloved spouse to follow,
And his dear and only mother
Through the sword her faithful son."
"Stay! oh stay!" exclaim'd the father:
"Yet 'tis time, so hasten, hasten!
Join the head upon the body,
With the sword then touch the figure,
And, alive she'll follow thee."


Hastening, he, with breathless wonder,
Sees the bodies of two women
Lying crosswise, and their heads too;
Oh, what horror! which to choose!
Then his mother's head he seizes,--
Does not kiss it, deadly pale 'tis,--
On the nearest headless body
Puts it quickly, and then blesses
With the sword the pious work.
Then the giant form uprises,--
From the dear lips of his mother,
Lips all god-like--changeless--blissful,
Sound these words with horror fraught:
"Son, oh son! what overhast'ning!
Yonder is thy mother's body,
Near it lies the impious head
Of the woman who hath fallen
Victim to the judgment-sword!
To her body I am grafted
By thy hand for endless ages;
Wise in counsel, wild in action,
I shall be amongst the gods.
E'en the heav'nly boy's own image,



Though in eye and brow so lovely,
Sinking downwards to the bosom
Mad and raging lust will stir.


"'Twill return again for ever,
Ever rising, ever sinking,
Now obscured, and now transfigur'd,--
So great Brama hath ordain'd.
He 'twas sent the beauteous pinions,
Radiant face and slender members
Of the only God-begotten,
That I might be proved and tempted;
For from high descends temptation,
When the gods ordain it so.
And so I, the Brahmin woman,
With my head in Heaven reclining,
Must experience, as a Pariah,
The debasing power of earth.


Son, I send thee to thy father!
Comfort him! Let no sad penance,
Weak delay, or thought of merit,
Hold thee in the desert fast
Wander on through ev'ry nation,
Roam abroad throughout all ages,
And proclaim to e'en the meanest,
That great Brama hears his cry!


"None is in his eyes the meanest--
He whose limbs are lame and palsied,
He whose soul is wildly riven,
Worn with sorrow, hopeless, helpless,
Be he Brahmin, be he Pariah,
If tow'rd heaven he turns his gaze,
Will perceive, will learn to know it:
Thousand eyes are glowing yonder,
Thousand ears are calmly list'ning,
From which nought below is hid.


"If I to his throne soar upward,
If he sees my fearful figure
By his might transform'd to horror,
He for ever will lament it,--
May it to your good be found!
And I now will kindly warn him,
And I now will madly tell him
Whatsoe'er my mind conceiveth,
What within my bosom heaveth.
But my thoughts, my inmost feelings--
Those a secret shall remain."

The Originals

A FELLOW says: "I own no school or college;
No master lives whom I acknowledge;
And pray don't entertain the thought
That from the dead I e'er learnt aught."
This, if I rightly understand,
Means: "I'm a blockhead at first hand."

The Metamorphosis Of Plants

THOU art confused, my beloved, at, seeing the thousandfold union

Shown in this flowery troop, over the garden dispers'd;
any a name dost thou hear assign'd; one after another


Falls on thy list'ning ear, with a barbarian sound.
None resembleth another, yet all their forms have a likeness;


Therefore, a mystical law is by the chorus proclaim'd;
Yes, a sacred enigma! Oh, dearest friend, could I only


Happily teach thee the word, which may the mystery solve!
Closely observe how the plant, by little and little progressing,


Step by step guided on, changeth to blossom and fruit!
First from the seed it unravels itself, as soon as the silent


Fruit-bearing womb of the earth kindly allows Its escape,
And to the charms of the light, the holy, the ever-in-motion,


Trusteth the delicate leaves, feebly beginning to shoot.
Simply slumber'd the force in the seed; a germ of the future,


Peacefully lock'd in itself, 'neath the integument lay,
Leaf and root, and bud, still void of colour, and shapeless;


Thus doth the kernel, while dry, cover that motionless life.
Upward then strives it to swell, in gentle moisture confiding,


And, from the night where it dwelt, straightway ascendeth to light.
Yet still simple remaineth its figure, when first it appeareth;


And 'tis a token like this, points out the child 'mid the plants.
Soon a shoot, succeeding it, riseth on high, and reneweth,


Piling-up node upon node, ever the primitive form;
Yet not ever alike: for the following leaf, as thou seest,


Ever produceth itself, fashioned in manifold ways.
Longer, more indented, in points and in parts more divided,


Which. all-deform'd until now, slept in the organ below,
So at length it attaineth the noble and destined perfection,


Which, in full many a tribe, fills thee with wondering awe.
Many ribb'd and tooth'd, on a surface juicy and swelling,


Free and unending the shoot seemeth in fullness to be;
Yet here Nature restraineth, with powerful hands, the formation,


And to a perfecter end, guideth with softness its growth,
Less abundantly yielding the sap, contracting the vessels,



So that the figure ere long gentler effects doth disclose.
Soon and in silence is check'd the growth of the vigorous branches,


And the rib of the stalk fuller becometh in form.
Leafless, however, and quick the tenderer stem then up-springeth,


And a miraculous sight doth the observer enchant.
Ranged in a circle, in numbers that now are small, and now countless,


Gather the smaller-sized leaves, close by the side of their like.
Round the axis compress'd the sheltering calyx unfoldeth,


And, as the perfectest type, brilliant-hued coronals forms.
Thus doth Nature bloom, in glory still nobler and fuller,


Showing, in order arranged, member on member uprear'd.
Wonderment fresh dost thou feel, as soon as the stem rears the flower


Over the scaffolding frail of the alternating leaves.
But this glory is only the new creation's foreteller,


Yes, the leaf with its hues feeleth the hand all divine,
And on a sudden contracteth itself; the tenderest figures


Twofold as yet, hasten on, destined to blend into one.
Lovingly now the beauteous pairs are standing together,


Gather'd in countless array, there where the altar is raised.
Hymen hovereth o'er them, and scents delicious and mighty


Stream forth their fragrance so sweet, all things enliv'ning around.
Presently, parcell'd out, unnumber'd germs are seen swelling,


Sweetly conceald in the womb, where is made perfect the fruit.
Here doth Nature close the ring of her forces eternal;


Yet doth a new one, at once, cling to the one gone before,
So that the chain be prolonged for ever through all generations,


And that the whole may have life, e'en as enjoy'd by each part.
Now, my beloved one, turn thy gaze on the many-hued thousands


Which, confusing no more, gladden the mind as they wave.
Every plant unto thee proclaimeth the laws everlasting,


Every flowered speaks louder and louder to thee;
But if thou here canst decipher the mystic words of the goddess,


Everywhere will they be seen, e'en though the features are changed.
Creeping insects may linger, the eager butterfly hasten,-



Plastic and forming, may man change e'en the figure decreed!


Oh, then, bethink thee, as well, how out of the germ of acquaintance,
Kindly intercourse sprang, slowly unfolding its leaves;
Soon how friendship with might unveil'd itself in our bosoms,


And how Amor, at length, brought forth blossom and fruit


Think of the manifold ways wherein Nature hath lent to our feelings,
Silently giving them birth, either the first or the last!
Yes, and rejoice in the present day! For love that is holy


Seeketh the noblest of fruits,--that where the thoughts are the same,
Where the opinions agree,--that the pair may, in rapt contemplation,
Lovingly blend into one,--find the more excellent world.

The Maid Of The Mill's Treachery

WHENCE comes our friend so hastily,

When scarce the Eastern sky is grey?
Hath he just ceased, though cold it be,
In yonder holy spot to pray?


The brook appears to hem his path,


Would he barefooted o'er it go?
Why curse his orisons in wrath,
Across those heights beclad with snow?
Alas! his warm bed he bath left,
Where he had look'd for bliss, I ween;


And if his cloak too, had been reft,


How fearful his disgrace had been!
By yonder villain sorely press'd,
His wallet from him has been torn;


Our hapless friend has been undress'd,
Left well nigh naked as when born.
The reason why he came this road,
Is that he sought a pair of eyes,


Which, at the mill, as brightly glow'd


As those that are in Paradise.
He will not soon again be there;
From out the house he quickly hied,


And when he gain'd the open air,
Thus bitterly and loudly cried
'Within her gaze, so dazzling bright,
No word of treachery I could read;


She seem'd to see me with delight,


Yet plann'd e'en then this cruel deed!
Could I, when basking in her smile,
Dream of the treason in her breast?


She bade kind Cupid stay awhile,
And he was there, to make us blest.



'To taste of love's sweet ecstasy


Throughout the night, that endless seem'd,
And for her mother's help to cry
Only when morning sunlight beam'd!


A dozen of her kith and kin,


A very human flood, in-press'd
Her cousins came, her aunts peer'd in,
And uncles, brothers, and the rest.
'Then what a tumult, fierce and loud!
Each seem'd a beast of prey to be;


The maiden's honour all the crowd,


With fearful shout, demand of me.
Why should they, madmen-like, begin
To fall upon a guiltless youth?


For he who such a prize would win,
Far nimbler needs must be, in truth.
'The way to follow up with skill
His freaks, by love betimes is known:


He ne'er will leave, within a mill,


Sweet flowers for sixteen years alone.-
They stole my clothes away,-yes, all!
And tried my cloak besides to steal.

How strange that any house so small
So many rascals could conceal!
'Then I sprang up, and raved, and swore,
To force a passage through them there.


I saw the treacherous maid once more,


And she was still, alas, so fair
They all gave way before my wrath,
Wild outcries flew about pell-mell;


At length I managed to rush forth,
With voice of thunder, from that hell.


'As maidens of the town we fly,


We'll shun you maidens of the village;
Leave it to those of quality
Their humble worshippers to pillage.


Yet if ye are of practised skill,


And of all tender ties afraid,
Exchange your lovers, if ye will,
But never let them be betray'd.'
Thus sings he in the winter-night,
While not a blade of grass was green.


I laugh'd to see his piteous plight,


For it was well-deserved, I ween.
And may this be the fate of all,
Who treat by day their true loves ill,


And, with foolhardy daring, crawl
By night to Cupid's treacherous mill!

The Godlike

NOBLE be man,
Helpful and good!
For that alone
Distinguisheth him
From all the beings
Unto us known.


Hail to the beings,
Unknown and glorious,
Whom we forebode!
From his example
Learn we to know them!


For unfeeling
Nature is ever:
On bad and on good
The sun alike shineth;
And on the wicked,
As on the best,
The moon and stars gleam.


Tempest and torrent,
Thunder and hail,
Roar on their path,
Seizing the while,
As they haste onward,
One after another.


Even so, fortune
Gropes 'mid the throng--
Innocent boyhood's
Curly head seizing,--
Seizing the hoary
Head of the sinner.


After laws mighty,
Brazen, eternal,
Must all we mortals
Finish the circuit
Of our existence.


Man, and man only
Can do the impossible;
He 'tis distinguisheth,
Chooseth and judgeth;
He to the moment
Endurance can lend.


He and he only
The good can reward,
The bad can he punish,
Can heal and can save;



All that wanders and strays
Can usefully blend.
And we pay homage
To the immortals
As though they were men,
And did in the great,
What the best, in the small,
Does or might do.


Be the man that is noble,
Both helpful and good.
Unweariedly forming
The right and the useful,
A type of those beings
Our mind hath foreshadow'd!

The Godlike

NOBLE be man,
Helpful and good!
For that alone
Distinguisheth him
From all the beings
Unto us known.


Hail to the beings,
Unknown and glorious,
Whom we forebode!
From his example
Learn we to know them!


For unfeeling
Nature is ever:
On bad and on good
The sun alike shineth;
And on the wicked,
As on the best,
The moon and stars gleam.


Tempest and torrent,
Thunder and hail,
Roar on their path,
Seizing the while,
As they haste onward,
One after another.


Even so, fortune
Gropes 'mid the throng--
Innocent boyhood's
Curly head seizing,--
Seizing the hoary
Head of the sinner.


After laws mighty,
Brazen, eternal,
Must all we mortals
Finish the circuit
Of our existence.


Man, and man only
Can do the impossible;
He 'tis distinguisheth,
Chooseth and judgeth;
He to the moment
Endurance can lend.


He and he only
The good can reward,
The bad can he punish,
Can heal and can save;



All that wanders and strays
Can usefully blend.
And we pay homage
To the immortals
As though they were men,
And did in the great,
What the best, in the small,
Does or might do.


Be the man that is noble,
Both helpful and good.
Unweariedly forming
The right and the useful,
A type of those beings
Our mind hath foreshadow'd!

The Garlands

KLOPSTOCK would lead us away from Pindus; no longer for laurel
May we be eager--the homely acorn alone must content us;
Yet he himself his more-than-epic crusade is conducting
High on Golgotha's summit, that foreign gods he may honour!
Yet, on what hill he prefers, let him gather the angels together,
Suffer deserted disciples to weep o'er the grave of the just one:
There where a hero and saint hath died, where a bard breath'd his numbers,
Both for our life and our death an ensample of courage resplendent
And of the loftiest human worth to bequeath,--ev'ry nation
There will joyously kneel in devotion ecstatic, revering
Thorn and laurel garland, and all its charms and its tortures.

The Freebooter

No door has my house,

No house has my door;
And in and out ever
I carry my store.
No grate has my kitchen,
No kitchen my grate;


Yet roasts it and boils it
Both early and late.
My bed has no trestles,
My trestles no bed;


Yet merrier moments
No mortal e'er led.
My cellar is lofty,
My barn is full deep,


From top to the bottom,--
There lie I and sleep.
And soon as I waken,
All moves on its race;


My place has no fixture,
My fixture no place.

The Freebooter

No door has my house,

No house has my door;
And in and out ever
I carry my store.
No grate has my kitchen,
No kitchen my grate;


Yet roasts it and boils it
Both early and late.
My bed has no trestles,
My trestles no bed;


Yet merrier moments
No mortal e'er led.
My cellar is lofty,
My barn is full deep,


From top to the bottom,--
There lie I and sleep.
And soon as I waken,
All moves on its race;


My place has no fixture,
My fixture no place.

The Fox And The Crane

ONCE two persons uninvited

Came to join my dinner table;
For the nonce they lived united,
Fox and crane yclept in fable.
Civil greetings pass'd between us
Then I pluck'd some pigeons tender


For the fox of jackal-genius,
Adding grapes in full-grown splendour.
Long-neck'd flasks I put as dishes
For the crane, without delaying,


Fill'd with gold and silver fishes,
In the limpid water playing.
Had ye witness'd Reynard planted
At his flat plate, all demurely,


Ye with envy must have granted:
"Ne'er was such a gourmand, surely!"
While the bird with circumspection
On one foot, as usual, cradled,


From the flasks his fish-refection
With his bill and long neck ladled.
One the pigeons praised,--the other,
As they went, extoll'd the fishes,


Each one scoffing at his brother
For preferring vulgar dishes.


*
If thou wouldst preserve thy credit,
When thou askest folks to guzzle

At thy hoard, take care to spread it
Suited both for bill and muzzle.

The Fox And The Crane

ONCE two persons uninvited

Came to join my dinner table;
For the nonce they lived united,
Fox and crane yclept in fable.
Civil greetings pass'd between us
Then I pluck'd some pigeons tender


For the fox of jackal-genius,
Adding grapes in full-grown splendour.
Long-neck'd flasks I put as dishes
For the crane, without delaying,


Fill'd with gold and silver fishes,
In the limpid water playing.
Had ye witness'd Reynard planted
At his flat plate, all demurely,


Ye with envy must have granted:
"Ne'er was such a gourmand, surely!"
While the bird with circumspection
On one foot, as usual, cradled,


From the flasks his fish-refection
With his bill and long neck ladled.
One the pigeons praised,--the other,
As they went, extoll'd the fishes,


Each one scoffing at his brother
For preferring vulgar dishes.


*
If thou wouldst preserve thy credit,
When thou askest folks to guzzle

At thy hoard, take care to spread it
Suited both for bill and muzzle.

The Dilettante And The Critic

A BOY a pigeon once possess'd,
In gay and brilliant plumage dress'd;
He loved it well, and in boyish sport
Its food to take from his mouth he taught,
And in his pigeon he took such pride,
That his joy to others he needs must confide.


An aged fox near the place chanc'd to dwell,
Talkative, clever, and learned as well;
The boy his society used to prize,
Hearing with pleasure his wonders and lies.


"My friend the fox my pigeon must see
He ran, and stretch'd 'mongst the bushes lay he
"Look, fox, at my pigeon, my pigeon so fair!
His equal I'm sure thou hast look'd upon ne'er!"


"Let's see!"--The boy gave it.--"'Tis really not bad;
And yet, it is far from complete, I must add.
The feathers, for, instance, how short! 'Tis absurd!"
So he set to work straightway to pluck the poor bird.


The boy screamed.--"Thou must now stronger pinions supply,
Or else 'twill be ugly, unable to fly."--
Soon 'twas stripp'd--oh, the villain!--and torn all to pieces.
The boy was heart-broken,--and so my tale ceases.


He who sees in the boy shadow'd forth his own case,
Should be on his guard 'gainst the fox's whole race.

The Country Schoolmaster

I.
A MASTER of a country school
Jump'd up one day from off his stool,
Inspired with firm resolve to try
To gain the best society;
So to the nearest baths he walk'd,
And into the saloon he stalk'd.
He felt quite. startled at the door,
Ne'er having seen the like before.
To the first stranger made he now
A very low and graceful bow,
But quite forgot to bear in mind
That people also stood behind;
His left-hand neighbor's paunch he struck
A grievous blow, by great ill luck;
Pardon for this he first entreated,
And then in haste his bow repeated.
His right hand neighbor next he hit,
And begg'd him, too, to pardon it;
But on his granting his petition,
Another was in like condition;
These compliments he paid to all,
Behind, before, across the hall;
At length one who could stand no more,
Show'd him impatiently the door.


May many, pond'ring on their crimes,
A moral draw from this betimes!


II.
As he proceeded on his way
He thought, "I was too weak to-day;
To bow I'll ne'er again be seen;
For goats will swallow what is green."
Across the fields he now must speed,
Not over stumps and stones, indeed,
But over meads and cornfields sweet,
Trampling down all with clumsy feet.
A farmer met him by-and-by,
And didn't ask him: how? or why?
But with his fist saluted him.


"I feel new life in every limb!"
Our traveller cried in ecstasy.
"Who art thou who thus gladden'st me?
May Heaven such blessings ever send!
Ne'er may I want a jovial friend!"

The Critic

I HAD a fellow as my guest,
Not knowing he was such a pest,
And gave him just my usual fare;
He ate his fill of what was there,


And for desert my best things swallow'd,
Soon as his meal was o'er, what follow'd?
Led by the Deuce, to a neighbour he went,
And talk'd of my food to his heart's content:
"The soup might surely have had more spice,
The meat was ill-brown'd, and the wine wasn't nice."
A thousand curses alight on his head!
'Tis a critic, I vow! Let the dog be struck dead!

Songs


SONGS are like painted window-panes!
In darkness wrapp'd the church remains,
If from the market-place we view it;
Thus sees the ignoramus through it.
No wonder that he deems it tame,--
And all his life 'twill be the same.


But let us now inside repair,
And greet the holy Chapel there!
At once the whole seems clear and bright,
Each ornament is bathed in light,
And fraught with meaning to the sight.
God's children! thus your fortune prize,
Be edified, and feast your eyes!

Rules For Monarchs

IF men are never their thoughts to employ,
Take care to provide them a life full of joy;
But if to some profit and use thou wouldst bend them,
Take care to shear them, and then defend them.

Rules For Monarchs

IF men are never their thoughts to employ,
Take care to provide them a life full of joy;
But if to some profit and use thou wouldst bend them,
Take care to shear them, and then defend them.

Roman Elegies I

Tell me you stones, O speak, you towering palaces!
Streets, say a word! Spirit of this place, are you dumb?
All things are alive in your sacred walls
eternal Rome, only for me all’s still.
Who will whisper to me, at what window
will I see the sweet thing who will kindle me, and quicken?
Already I guess the ways, walking to her and from her,
ever and always I’ll go, while sweet time slips by.
I’m gazing at church and palace, ruin and column,
like a serious man making sensible use of a journey,
but soon it will happen, and all will be one vast temple,
Love’s temple, receiving its new initiate.
Though you are a whole world, Rome, still, without Love,
the world’s not the world, Rome cannot be Rome.

Poetry


GOD to his untaught children sent

Law, order, knowledge, art, from high,
And ev'ry heav'nly favour lent,
The world's hard lot to qualify.


They knew not how they should behave,


For all from Heav'n stark-naked came;
But Poetry their garments gave,
And then not one had cause for shame.

Neither This Nor That

IF thou to be a slave shouldst will,
Thou'lt get no pity, but fare ill;
And if a master thou wouldst be,
The world will view it angrily;
And if in status quo thou stay,
That thou art but a fool, they'll say.

Neither This Nor That

IF thou to be a slave shouldst will,
Thou'lt get no pity, but fare ill;
And if a master thou wouldst be,
The world will view it angrily;
And if in status quo thou stay,
That thou art but a fool, they'll say.

Minstrel's Book - The Four Favours

THAT Arabs through the realms of space
May wander on, light-hearted,
Great Allah hath, to all their race,
Four favours meet imparted.
The turban first--that ornament
All regal crowns excelling;
A light and ever-shifting tent,
Wherein to make our dwelling;
A sword, which, more than rocks and walls
Doth shield us, brightly glistening;
A song that profits and enthrall,
For which the maids are list'ning!