Kitabı oxu: «Moral Emblems»

NOT I, AND OTHER POEMS

Poem: NOT I

 
Some like drink
In a pint pot,
Some like to think;
Some not.
 
 
Strong Dutch cheese,
Old Kentucky rye,
Some like these;
Not I.
 
 
Some like Poe,
And others like Scott,
Some like Mrs. Stowe;
Some not.
 
 
Some like to laugh,
Some like to cry,
Some like chaff;
Not I.
 

Poem: II

 
Here, perfect to a wish,
We offer, not a dish,
But just the platter:
A book that’s not a book,
A pamphlet in the look
But not the matter.
 
 
I own in disarray:
As to the flowers of May
The frosts of Winter;
To my poetic rage,
The smallness of the page
And of the printer.
 

Poem: III

 
As seamen on the seas
With song and dance descry
Adown the morning breeze
An islet in the sky:
In Araby the dry,
As o’er the sandy plain
The panting camels cry
To smell the coming rain:
 
 
So all things over earth
A common law obey,
And rarity and worth
Pass, arm in arm, away;
And even so, to-day,
The printer and the bard,
In pressless Davos, pray
Their sixpenny reward.
 

Poem: IV

 
The pamphlet here presented
Was planned and printed by
A printer unindented,
A bard whom all decry.
 
 
The author and the printer,
With various kinds of skill,
Concocted it in Winter
At Davos on the Hill.
 
 
They burned the nightly taper;
But now the work is ripe -
Observe the costly paper,
Remark the perfect type!
 

MORAL EMBLEMS I

Poem: I

 
See how the children in the print
Bound on the book to see what’s in ‘t!
O, like these pretty babes, may you
Seize and apply this volume too!
And while your eye upon the cuts
With harmless ardour opes and shuts,
Reader, may your immortal mind
To their sage lessons not be blind.
 

Poem: II

 
Reader, your soul upraise to see,
In yon fair cut designed by me,
The pauper by the highwayside
Vainly soliciting from pride.
Mark how the Beau with easy air
Contemns the anxious rustic’s prayer,
And, casting a disdainful eye,
Goes gaily gallivanting by.
He from the poor averts his head.
He will regret it when he’s dead.
 

Poem: III – A PEAK IN DARIEN

 
Broad-gazing on untrodden lands,
See where adventurous Cortez stands;
While in the heavens above his head
The Eagle seeks its daily bread.
How aptly fact to fact replies:
Heroes and eagles, hills and skies.
Ye who contemn the fatted slave
Look on this emblem, and be brave.
 

Poem: IV

 
See in the print how, moved by whim,
Trumpeting Jumbo, great and grim,
Adjusts his trunk, like a cravat,
To noose that individual’s hat.
The sacred Ibis in the distance
Joys to observe his bold resistance.
 

Poem: V

 
Mark, printed on the opposing page,
The unfortunate effects of rage.
A man (who might be you or me)
Hurls another into the sea.
Poor soul, his unreflecting act
His future joys will much contract,
And he will spoil his evening toddy
By dwelling on that mangled body.
 

MORAL EMBLEMS II

Poem: I

 
With storms a-weather, rocks a-lee,
The dancing skiff puts forth to sea.
The lone dissenter in the blast
Recoils before the sight aghast.
But she, although the heavens be black,
Holds on upon the starboard tack,
For why? although to-day she sink,
Still safe she sails in printer’s ink,
And though to-day the seamen drown,
My cut shall hand their memory down.
 

Poem: II

 
The careful angler chose his nook
At morning by the lilied brook,
And all the noon his rod he plied
By that romantic riverside.
Soon as the evening hours decline
Tranquilly he’ll return to dine,
And, breathing forth a pious wish,
Will cram his belly full of fish.
 

Poem: III

 
The Abbot for a walk went out,
A wealthy cleric, very stout,
And Robin has that Abbot stuck
As the red hunter spears the buck.
The djavel or the javelin
Has, you observe, gone bravely in,
And you may hear that weapon whack
Bang through the middle of his back.
Hence we may learn that Abbots should
Never go walking in a wood.
 

Poem: IV

 
The frozen peaks he once explored,
But now he’s dead and by the board.
How better far at home to have stayed
Attended by the parlour maid,
And warmed his knees before the fire
Until the hour when folks retire!
So, if you would be spared to friends,
Do nothing but for business ends.
 

Poem: V

 
Industrious pirate! see him sweep
The lonely bosom of the deep,
And daily the horizon scan
From Hatteras or Matapan.
Be sure, before that pirate’s old,
He will have made a pot of gold,
And will retire from all his labours
And be respected by his neighbours.
You also scan your life’s horizon
For all that you can clap your eyes on.
 

A MARTIAL ELEGY FOR SOME LEAD SOLDIERS

 
For certain soldiers lately dead
Our reverent dirge shall here be said.
Them, when their martial leader called,
No dread preparative appalled;
But leaden-hearted, leaden-heeled,
I marked them steadfast in the field.
Death grimly sided with the foe,
And smote each leaden hero low.
Proudly they perished one by one:
The dread Pea-cannon’s work was done!
O not for them the tears we shed,
Consigned to their congenial lead;
But while unmoved their sleep they take,
We mourn for their dear Captain’s sake,
For their dear Captain, who shall smart
Both in his pocket and his heart,
Who saw his heroes shed their gore,
And lacked a shilling to buy more!
 

THE GRAVER THE PEN: OR, SCENES FROM NATURE, WITH APPROPRIATE VERSES

Poem: I – PROEM

 
Unlike the common run of men,
I wield a double power to please,
And use the GRAVER and the PEN
With equal aptitude and ease.
 
 
I move with that illustrious crew,
The ambidextrous Kings of Art;
And every mortal thing I do
Brings ringing money in the mart.
 
 
Hence, in the morning hour, the mead,
The forest and the stream perceive
Me wandering as the muses lead -
Or back returning in the eve.
 
 
Two muses like two maiden aunts,
The engraving and the singing muse,
Follow, through all my favourite haunts,
My devious traces in the dews.
 
 
To guide and cheer me, each attends;
Each speeds my rapid task along;
One to my cuts her ardour lends,
One breathes her magic in my song.
 

Poem: II – THE PRECARIOUS MILL

 
Alone above the stream it stands,
Above the iron hill,
The topsy-turvy, tumble-down,
Yet habitable mill.
 
 
Still as the ringing saws advance
To slice the humming deal,
All day the pallid miller hears
The thunder of the wheel.
 
 
He hears the river plunge and roar
As roars the angry mob;
He feels the solid building quake,
The trusty timbers throb.
 
 
All night beside the fire he cowers:
He hears the rafters jar:
O why is he not in a proper house
As decent people are!
 
 
The floors are all aslant, he sees,
The doors are all a-jam;
And from the hook above his head
All crooked swings the ham.
 
 
‘Alas,’ he cries and shakes his head,
‘I see by every sign,
There soon all be the deuce to pay,
With this estate of mine.’
 

Poem: III – THE DISPUTATIOUS PINES

 
The first pine to the second said:
‘My leaves are black, my branches red;
I stand upon this moor of mine,
A hoar, unconquerable pine.’
 
 
The second sniffed and answered: ‘Pooh!
I am as good a pine as you.’
 

 
 
 
‘Discourteous tree,’ the first replied,
‘The tempest in my boughs had cried,
The hunter slumbered in my shade,
A hundred years ere you were made.’
 
 
The second smiled as he returned:
‘I shall be here when you are burned.’
 
 
So far dissension ruled the pair,
Each turned on each a frowning air,
When flickering from the bank anigh,
A flight of martens met their eye.
Sometime their course they watched; and then -
They nodded off to sleep again.
 

Poem: IV – THE TRAMPS

 
Now long enough had day endured,
Or King Apollo Palinured,
Seaward he steers his panting team,
And casts on earth his latest gleam.
 
 
But see! the Tramps with jaded eye
Their destined provinces espy.
Long through the hills their way they took,
Long camped beside the mountain brook;
’Tis over; now with rising hope
They pause upon the downward slope,
And as their aching bones they rest,
Their anxious captain scans the west.
 
 
So paused Alaric on the Alps
And ciphered up the Roman scalps.
 

Poem: V – THE FOOLHARDY GEOGRAPHER

 
The howling desert miles around,
The tinkling brook the only sound -
Wearied with all his toils and feats,
The traveller dines on potted meats;
On potted meats and princely wines,
Not wisely but too well he dines.
 
 
The brindled Tiger loud may roar,
High may the hovering Vulture soar;
Alas! regardless of them all,
Soon shall the empurpled glutton sprawl -
Soon, in the desert’s hushed repose,
Shall trumpet tidings through his nose!
Alack, unwise! that nasal song
Shall be the Ounce’s dinner-gong!
 
 
A blemish in the cut appears;
Alas! it cost both blood and tears.
The glancing graver swerved aside,
Fast flowed the artist’s vital tide!
And now the apologetic bard
Demands indulgence for his pard!
 

Poem: VI – THE ANGLER AND THE CLOWN

 
The echoing bridge you here may see,
The pouring lynn, the waving tree,
The eager angler fresh from town -
Above, the contumelious clown.
The angler plies his line and rod,
The clodpole stands with many a nod, -
With many a nod and many a grin,
He sees him cast his engine in.
 
 
‘What have you caught?’ the peasant cries.
 
 
‘Nothing as yet,’ the Fool replies.
 

MORAL TALES

Poem: I – ROBIN AND BEN: OR, THE PIRATE AND THE APOTHECARY

 
Come, lend me an attentive ear
A startling moral tale to hear,
Of Pirate Rob and Chemist Ben,
And different destinies of men.
 
 
Deep in the greenest of the vales
That nestle near the coast of Wales,
The heaving main but just in view,
Robin and Ben together grew,
Together worked and played the fool,
Together shunned the Sunday school,
And pulled each other’s youthful noses
Around the cots, among the roses.
 
 
Together but unlike they grew;
Robin was rough, and through and through
Bold, inconsiderate, and manly,
Like some historic Bruce or Stanley.
Ben had a mean and servile soul,
He robbed not, though he often stole.
He sang on Sunday in the choir,
And tamely capped the passing Squire.
 
 
At length, intolerant of trammels -
Wild as the wild Bithynian camels,
Wild as the wild sea-eagles – Bob
His widowed dam contrives to rob,
And thus with great originality
Effectuates his personality.
Thenceforth his terror-haunted flight
He follows through the starry night;
And with the early morning breeze,
Behold him on the azure seas.
The master of a trading dandy
Hires Robin for a go of brandy;
And all the happy hills of home
Vanish beyond the fields of foam.
 
 
Ben, meanwhile, like a tin reflector,
Attended on the worthy rector;
Opened his eyes and held his breath,
And flattered to the point of death;
And was at last, by that good fairy,
Apprenticed to the Apothecary.
 
 
So Ben, while Robin chose to roam,
A rising chemist was at home,
Tended his shop with learnèd air,
Watered his drugs and oiled his hair,
And gave advice to the unwary,
Like any sleek apothecary.
 
 
Meanwhile upon the deep afar
Robin the brave was waging war,
With other tarry desperadoes
About the latitude of Barbadoes.
He knew no touch of craven fear;
His voice was thunder in the cheer;
First, from the main-to’-gallan’ high,
The skulking merchantmen to spy -
The first to bound upon the deck,
The last to leave the sinking wreck.