University of Virginia Library

1.

Charm, in a blackbird's brazen cage confined,
Was somewhat shy and wild at first of all.
But to his lot the bird became resign'd,
When daily to that favour'd lot did fall
Fine sand, fresh water, and luxurious bits
Of bullock's heart, that deck'd the cage's slits,
As venison, scenting gusts that keep it pure,
Hangs in the larder of an epicure;
With carrots, cut in slices, eggs of ants,
Maggots, and all things that a blackbird wants,
For dainty relish of his daily fare.

2.

Here be it said that to his first essay
Simplicius, though no doubt a doctrinaire,
Applied his doctrine in a general way,
And prudently decided to forbear
From pushing to extremes its leading principle.
For, since reformers fail when they attempt
At making Justice all at once invincible,
He from her jurisdiction left exempt
(As minor matters which he took no heed of)
The grubs, and eggs, and worms, his bird had need of.
The grateful Bird lived, happier day by day,
A life harmonious with its lot quotidian;
And, if 'twas still an elegy, his lay
Had notes, at least, more joyous than Ovidian.

3.

As for the fluffy, puffy, plump white Cat,
If she were not completely comfortable,
There surely never was a diplomat
Half such a humbug, half so slyly able
To simulate the feelings he should feel,
And those he feels, and should not, to conceal.
The chief part of her life-long holiday
(As tho' it were her only care on earth
To keep her soft self warm) a clump she lay
Of cream-white languid limbs beside the hearth;
Or rubb'd her lithe back in a flattering bow
Against the legs of her good lord and master,
Smoothing those spotless flakes of furry snow
In which, for whiteness, not Mont Blanc surpass'd her;
Or, in the firelight's fluctuating glow,
Curl'd on his lap and safe from all disaster,
She purr'd as tho' she to herself, half-sleeping,
Were telling o'er her dreams in drowsy tone;
Or else, about the chairs and tables leaping,
(A frolic phantom scarcely seen ere gone)
She whisk'd, and frisk'd, and flitted here and there,
Fitful as fancy, and as childhood fair.

4.

To these two qualities of Charm and Grace
Which he in Bird and Cat together got,
Simplicius added, in the third good place,
Fidelity—so true, man finds it not
Save in a dog. The Dog of our Simplicius
Was great and good; and well deserved, poor fellow,
A name less ominous of deeds flagitious
Than chance had given him—say Philax, Bello,
Or Lion, even, or Turk—for he was bold
(Albeit without a touch of temper vicious)
But Nero? . . . cramm'd with cruelties untold,
Whose character was, like his name, nigritious,
—A name recalling murders manifold!
Such was the name this dog, by chance capricious,
Had been baptised with, when, but three months old,
His tender age might, sure, have guaranteed him
Against the libellous title thus decreed him.

5.

If pure gold, oozed from out the Age of Gold,
Could, in a living form, have glow'd on earth,
None better fitted to present, and hold
Unsullied, its primæval perfect worth
Could earth have found it, than our Nero's own;
Nor more in colour kindred to the hue
Whereby that noble metal may be known.
For tawny-colour'd was our Nero too,
As gold is: short-hair'd, all a yellow brown;
Save for a single streak of glossy black
That, with straightforward purpose, went right down
The whole length of his honourable back,
And his most eloquently honest tail;
Which wagg'd warm welcome to the world all round.
Black, too, and bright as brightly burnisht mail,
The single star that his fair forehead crown'd,
And black his muzzle was: the unshell'd snail
No blacker shines, whose damp and jetty sheen
Jewels the fresh stalks of the rain-drench'd fennel.
When Nero, his stoop'd head flat-based between
Firm-planted forepaws, peeping from his kennel,
Lay stretch'd sedate in soothing noontide sleep;
Whilst loyal vigilance unlull'd and keen
(No sound escaping its quick silent comment)
Still linger'd in the watchful tremulous wink
Of drowsy lids that twitch'd at every moment,
And duty sat in serious wrinkles deep
Across his brow's sagacious breadth,—I think
That had some Attic sculptor seen that sight,
Grasping his chisel with an eager hand,
He would have cried, in satisfied delight,
“Behold the perfect sculpturesque expression
Of Property!” And, forced to understand
The imprudence of his wonted prepossession
Against the law of Moses and the land,
A thief, perchance, some honest awe might feel,
And pass on murmuring “Thou shalt not steal!”

6.

Between Fidelity, and Charm, and Grace,
For Humour of a grave and thoughtful kind,
In ursine form, long while a vacant place
Simplicius kept before he chanced to find
Its fit incumbent. For the ursine race,
Whose sage demeanour and prodigious force
Might with the race of man have long competed
Had they but chosen to dispute man's course,
Have, far from man, to hermit haunts retreated,
And lone they dwell among the mountains lonely.
Man boasts, as tho' the trick must needs endear him
To all four-footed animals at least,
That he can go upon his hind paws only.
For this, and for his faculty to feast
Upon all kinds of food, the beasts revere him
As being the most universal beast.
But in these two respects the Bear comes near him;
Tho' differing in a third (and not, I fear
To man's advantage) namely in good-nature.
O Timon! Timon! hadst thou been a bear,
Those maledictions, by a human creature
On human creatures hurl'd, not even despair
Would then have wrung from thy resentment. Guile,
Deceit, and treachery, and treason black
Bruin (for so was named in simple style
This shaggy much-tried sage) had known, alack,
In all their hateful human forms, long while
Ere from a filthy vagrant Bosniac
Simplicius bought him—unembitter'd yet,
And so good-natured that across his back
He let a pert and pranksome monkey get,
Pretend to ride him, and, impetuous, smack
A saucy whip. Himself a minuet
With sad and stately gesture sometimes deign'd
To dance to music rude of drum and fife,
Tho' oft the mirth of vulgar crowds profaned
This melancholy pastime of a life
Which had known better days. Alas poor Bruin!
A trustful nature and, for safe fruition,
A love, too fond—of honey—proved his ruin.
Rogues had imposed on his sweet disposition
And made him smart for it. But Fortune now
Seem'd on his fate to smile with fairer brow.
Simplicius built him in the castle court
A spacious mansion for his calm resort.
Rail'd parapets of stone did there environ
His sleeping chamber girt with grates of iron.
And, in the midst of this deep-sunk domain,
A dead tree, planted by man's labour fast,
Served for his perch whene'er the sage was fain
(Like “Science in her speculative tower”)
A general glance around the world to cast,
With soul unbounded by his lonely bower.

7.

So in Simplicius' hospitable hall
Did Grace and Charm, its daily inmates, dwell.
And, round about those happy precincts, all
Went blithe and “merry as a marriage bell.”
The Bird “his native wood-notes warbled wild.”
The Cat, like some white curl'd-up humming shell,
Purr'd by the hearth contentment calm and mild.
The Dog bark'd welcome loud and wagg'd delight
To his approving master morn and night.
And he, the blissful owner of these joys,
When he, at any moment, felt inclined
To meditative moods, whose charm decoys
From shallower pleasures oft the pensive mind,
Would sit and muse above that bear-pit wide.
Whence many a mournful monitory growl
With solemn music stirr'd and edified
To heights sublime his contemplative soul.
Sullen it was, nay surly seem'd the sound.
But surly too, nor feebly feminine,
Is that majestic charm by fancy found
In Melancholy's deep and sullen eyne
What time she doth a manly sex assume.
And that is why, when either love or wine
In manly bosoms breeds ungenial gloom,
Chilling with churlish scowl some revel garish,
We call such melancholy conduct—bearish.