A BUSINESS TRANSACTION
The poet stepped into a grimy den,Where the sign above the doorSaid: Money to lend, in sums to suit,On Real Estate, &c.I want, said the Poet,(So many thousand dollars).So said Cent per Cent, rubbing his hands,Where is the property?I offer, said the Poet,My Castle in Spain,'Tis a lovely house,So many rooms, acres, &c.
The poet stepped into a grimy den,Where the sign above the doorSaid: Money to lend, in sums to suit,On Real Estate, &c.I want, said the Poet,(So many thousand dollars).So said Cent per Cent, rubbing his hands,Where is the property?I offer, said the Poet,My Castle in Spain,'Tis a lovely house,So many rooms, acres, &c.
The poet stepped into a grimy den,Where the sign above the doorSaid: Money to lend, in sums to suit,On Real Estate, &c.
The poet stepped into a grimy den,
Where the sign above the door
Said: Money to lend, in sums to suit,
On Real Estate, &c.
I want, said the Poet,(So many thousand dollars).So said Cent per Cent, rubbing his hands,Where is the property?
I want, said the Poet,
(So many thousand dollars).
So said Cent per Cent, rubbing his hands,
Where is the property?
I offer, said the Poet,My Castle in Spain,'Tis a lovely house,So many rooms, acres, &c.
I offer, said the Poet,
My Castle in Spain,
'Tis a lovely house,
So many rooms, acres, &c.
Ambling, ambling round the ring,Round the ring of daily duty,Leap, Circus-rider, man, through the paper hoop of death,—Ah, lightest thou, beyond death, on this same slow-ambling, padded horse of life.
Ambling, ambling round the ring,Round the ring of daily duty,Leap, Circus-rider, man, through the paper hoop of death,—Ah, lightest thou, beyond death, on this same slow-ambling, padded horse of life.
Ambling, ambling round the ring,Round the ring of daily duty,Leap, Circus-rider, man, through the paper hoop of death,—Ah, lightest thou, beyond death, on this same slow-ambling, padded horse of life.
Ambling, ambling round the ring,
Round the ring of daily duty,
Leap, Circus-rider, man, through the paper hoop of death,
—Ah, lightest thou, beyond death, on this same slow-ambling, padded horse of life.
Youth, the circus-rider, fares gaily round the ring, standing with one foot on the bare-backed horse—the Ideal. Presently, at the moment of manhood, Life (exacting ring-master) causes another horse to be brought in who passes under the rider's legs, and ambles on. This is the Real. The young man takes up the reins, places a foot on each animal, and the business now becomes serious.
For it is a differing pace, of these two, the Real and the Ideal.
And yet no man can be said to make the least success in life who does not contrive to make them go well together.
The Age is an Adonis that pursues the boar Wealth: yet shall the rude tusk of trade wound this blue-veined thigh,—ifLovecome not to the rescue; Adon despises Love.
Sometimes Providence seems to have a bee in his bonnet. Else why should hell, the greatest risk, be the most improvable fact, and himself, the only light, be the most completely undiscoverable? If the angels are good company, why shut us out from them? I look for good boys for my children. Hide not your light under a bushel, is His own command: and yet He is completely obscured under the inexorablequid pro quoof Nature and the hateful measure of Evil.
[Credo, and Other Poems]
[Credo, and Other Poems]
[Credo, and Other Poems]
[Credo, and Other Poems]
The black-birds giving a shimmer of sound,{ transparent tremorsAs midday hills give forth { luminousof heat and haze.
The black-birds giving a shimmer of sound,{ transparent tremorsAs midday hills give forth { luminousof heat and haze.
The black-birds giving a shimmer of sound,{ transparent tremorsAs midday hills give forth { luminousof heat and haze.
The black-birds giving a shimmer of sound,
{ transparent tremors
As midday hills give forth { luminous
of heat and haze.