 | Interludes and Undertones, or, Music at Twilight |  |
171
CXXIX. TO ONE WHO BOASTED THAT HE “KNEW THE WORLD.”
You
know the world? you know it not at all!
You never struggled hard in misery's grip,
Or sound in fortune's draught the poisonous gall,
When its bright chalice sparkled at your lip.
You never struggled hard in misery's grip,
Or sound in fortune's draught the poisonous gall,
When its bright chalice sparkled at your lip.
You know the world? you ne'er at rise of sun
Looked in your empty cupboard, and with dread
Thought of the children that, ere day was done,
Might vainly ask you for a crust of bread.
Looked in your empty cupboard, and with dread
Thought of the children that, ere day was done,
Might vainly ask you for a crust of bread.
You know the world? you never knew despair
Creep through your veins to seize upon your soul,
And had to fight him off through storms of care,
And agonies beyond your self-control.
Creep through your veins to seize upon your soul,
And had to fight him off through storms of care,
And agonies beyond your self-control.
You know the world? you never madly loved,
And still loved on, till love became despair;
Nor drained your heart of tears when death removed
The life-long partner of your fondest care.
And still loved on, till love became despair;
Nor drained your heart of tears when death removed
The life-long partner of your fondest care.
172
Vain! oh, most vain! your false misleading boast
Of selfish wisdom, arid as the stone;
He hath most knowledge who hath suffered most,
Perhaps most joy,—if all the truth were known.
Of selfish wisdom, arid as the stone;
He hath most knowledge who hath suffered most,
Perhaps most joy,—if all the truth were known.
| Interludes and Undertones, or, Music at Twilight | |