Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs By Walter Thornbury. Illustrated by J. Whistler, F. Walker, John Tenniel, J. D. Watson, W. Small, F. Sandys, G. J. Pinwell, T. Morten, M. J. Lawless, and many others |
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The Usurper and his Fate.
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 | Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs |  |
The Usurper and his Fate.
The wasp was feeding deep in the plum,
In a golden cave, like an angry king,
Shaking his head and trying his sting,
With a fretful feverish hum.
He ruffled his thin, dark, narrow-veined wing
With a restless petulant hum.
Like an Indian sultan, in pomp and leisure,
He swung in his hammock, taking his pleasure,
In his gay sedan with the purple cloth.
Proud he was, and a scornful wrath
Made him restless, fretfully hum.
High near the top of the sunny wall,
By the coping-brick, green-padded with moss,
He swung like a monarch, and feared no fall;
For the sky was blue, and a bloom of dew
Was over his throne, the plum.
O Lord! if any one dared to call
At his hermit's cell for a bit or a sup
(A pampered anchorite, proud of the cup,
And the flesh, and the fruit, was he),
He drove the beggar out scornfully.
If a long red ant came prying in,
Or an earwig horned, with the red-black skin,
He fumed and fretted, and out with his sting
As a bully whips his sword.
So, neither by courtesy, guile, nor fraud,
Could a stranger venture in.
In a golden cave, like an angry king,
Shaking his head and trying his sting,
With a fretful feverish hum.
He ruffled his thin, dark, narrow-veined wing
With a restless petulant hum.
Like an Indian sultan, in pomp and leisure,
He swung in his hammock, taking his pleasure,
In his gay sedan with the purple cloth.
Proud he was, and a scornful wrath
Made him restless, fretfully hum.
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By the coping-brick, green-padded with moss,
He swung like a monarch, and feared no fall;
For the sky was blue, and a bloom of dew
Was over his throne, the plum.
O Lord! if any one dared to call
At his hermit's cell for a bit or a sup
(A pampered anchorite, proud of the cup,
And the flesh, and the fruit, was he),
He drove the beggar out scornfully.
If a long red ant came prying in,
Or an earwig horned, with the red-black skin,
He fumed and fretted, and out with his sting
As a bully whips his sword.
So, neither by courtesy, guile, nor fraud,
Could a stranger venture in.
The leaves were sunny, the air was blue,
And a mealy crystalline film of dew
Bloomed on the gold-fleshed plum:
Inside, the tyrant's warning hum
Keep the hornet and ant away.
Up went my ladder, and through the leaves
My searching hand passed up and down;
Plump the gold drop from the spray
Fell down. And the king has lost his crown;
Realm and subjects are gone to-day.
And thus I learned, on the top of a wall,
That sooner or later Pride will fall.
And a mealy crystalline film of dew
Bloomed on the gold-fleshed plum:
Inside, the tyrant's warning hum
Keep the hornet and ant away.
Up went my ladder, and through the leaves
My searching hand passed up and down;
Plump the gold drop from the spray
Fell down. And the king has lost his crown;
Realm and subjects are gone to-day.
And thus I learned, on the top of a wall,
That sooner or later Pride will fall.
| Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs | |