THE RAILER.
“There is no joy thro’ all the earth:Hope is a witless mocker’s jest:There is no nobler second birth—Nor fair, nor best!“The touch of Death is over allAnd life is portal to the hellWhere men are cattle in a stallTo buy and sell!“Yea, he who tears his brother’s heartTo cast it to the ravening crowdIs hailed as master of the martWith plaudits loud.“He wears his crown a little spaceUntil a fiercer knave than heShall push him from his vantage placeAnd monarch be!“The shadows drive away the sun—The flowers are hid by jealous Night,The fruit is plundered—never won—And Might rules Right!”Thus raves the scoffer, age in age,Who bears no message of his ownSave the blind clamor of his rageFrom breast of stone.He holds a balance in his clawTo weigh with loaded penny-weightsThe mighty universe of LawWith all its fates!This, to the railer from the tombsWho makes not, neither loves nor gives:Spite of the crackle of thy doomsGod lives! God lives!John Jerome Rooney.
“There is no joy thro’ all the earth:Hope is a witless mocker’s jest:There is no nobler second birth—Nor fair, nor best!“The touch of Death is over allAnd life is portal to the hellWhere men are cattle in a stallTo buy and sell!“Yea, he who tears his brother’s heartTo cast it to the ravening crowdIs hailed as master of the martWith plaudits loud.“He wears his crown a little spaceUntil a fiercer knave than heShall push him from his vantage placeAnd monarch be!“The shadows drive away the sun—The flowers are hid by jealous Night,The fruit is plundered—never won—And Might rules Right!”Thus raves the scoffer, age in age,Who bears no message of his ownSave the blind clamor of his rageFrom breast of stone.He holds a balance in his clawTo weigh with loaded penny-weightsThe mighty universe of LawWith all its fates!This, to the railer from the tombsWho makes not, neither loves nor gives:Spite of the crackle of thy doomsGod lives! God lives!John Jerome Rooney.
“There is no joy thro’ all the earth:Hope is a witless mocker’s jest:There is no nobler second birth—Nor fair, nor best!
“There is no joy thro’ all the earth:
Hope is a witless mocker’s jest:
There is no nobler second birth—
Nor fair, nor best!
“The touch of Death is over allAnd life is portal to the hellWhere men are cattle in a stallTo buy and sell!
“The touch of Death is over all
And life is portal to the hell
Where men are cattle in a stall
To buy and sell!
“Yea, he who tears his brother’s heartTo cast it to the ravening crowdIs hailed as master of the martWith plaudits loud.
“Yea, he who tears his brother’s heart
To cast it to the ravening crowd
Is hailed as master of the mart
With plaudits loud.
“He wears his crown a little spaceUntil a fiercer knave than heShall push him from his vantage placeAnd monarch be!
“He wears his crown a little space
Until a fiercer knave than he
Shall push him from his vantage place
And monarch be!
“The shadows drive away the sun—The flowers are hid by jealous Night,The fruit is plundered—never won—And Might rules Right!”
“The shadows drive away the sun—
The flowers are hid by jealous Night,
The fruit is plundered—never won—
And Might rules Right!”
Thus raves the scoffer, age in age,Who bears no message of his ownSave the blind clamor of his rageFrom breast of stone.
Thus raves the scoffer, age in age,
Who bears no message of his own
Save the blind clamor of his rage
From breast of stone.
He holds a balance in his clawTo weigh with loaded penny-weightsThe mighty universe of LawWith all its fates!
He holds a balance in his claw
To weigh with loaded penny-weights
The mighty universe of Law
With all its fates!
This, to the railer from the tombsWho makes not, neither loves nor gives:Spite of the crackle of thy doomsGod lives! God lives!
This, to the railer from the tombs
Who makes not, neither loves nor gives:
Spite of the crackle of thy dooms
God lives! God lives!
John Jerome Rooney.
John Jerome Rooney.