Ernest The Rule of Right. Second Edition [by Capel Lofft] |
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 | Ernest |  |
He was a man
Of high nobility, yet simple too,
As any lonely loreless shepherd's boy,
And careless of self-claims; giving much grace
To his high house, but needing none therefrom,
As living from that true and inward light
Which shames the false: so, in self-stand, he scorned
Rotten hearse-trappings of dead mouldering dust,
A manly soul, strong in his manliness—
Prouder without pride's plume. He'd felt erewhile
The gripe of neediness, and fought against
Her iron claws barehanded—friends were few—
Kindred far off, and nature but a name—
Nor common blood scarce more compassionate
Than the cold water of the common pool.
So they were nought to him, nor he to them,
And in his bitterness oft his heart yearned
For the chill blank that Aristocracy
Offered him, bloodily to blot it out.
So were the world well rid. But hate and scorn
Howe'er they nurse them in the inmost heart
Keep not the body warm—nor drive the wolf
From the door. What 'vails, against his spiteful teeth
And fangs, to show our own.
Of high nobility, yet simple too,
As any lonely loreless shepherd's boy,
And careless of self-claims; giving much grace
To his high house, but needing none therefrom,
86
Which shames the false: so, in self-stand, he scorned
Rotten hearse-trappings of dead mouldering dust,
A manly soul, strong in his manliness—
Prouder without pride's plume. He'd felt erewhile
The gripe of neediness, and fought against
Her iron claws barehanded—friends were few—
Kindred far off, and nature but a name—
Nor common blood scarce more compassionate
Than the cold water of the common pool.
So they were nought to him, nor he to them,
And in his bitterness oft his heart yearned
For the chill blank that Aristocracy
Offered him, bloodily to blot it out.
So were the world well rid. But hate and scorn
Howe'er they nurse them in the inmost heart
Keep not the body warm—nor drive the wolf
From the door. What 'vails, against his spiteful teeth
And fangs, to show our own.
| Ernest | |