Ernest The Rule of Right. Second Edition [by Capel Lofft] |
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 | Ernest |  |
So he lived
Awhile; and all that life was broken law,
Confounding rule with riot; bursting bounds,
Daring the worst of danger, day by day,
Till daring became feverish hankering thirst,
With danger for its diet—so high-strained
Is but short-lived—outrage and penalty
Crossing so often must needs meet at last:
As he ere long had felt. But Fortune's sun,
Suddenly shining, cleared his outward cloud—
But not his own worse vapours from within—
However, luck befriended him—if that
Be friendly to pour down on him a flood
Where only showers were needed. Such a gush
Of wealth, so strange, as hurried his life-stream
With swirling glut to overswell its banks—
Nor did he long contain him—for that turn
Of fortune turned his thought and working will
From his late wont of riotous recklessness
To a stern earnest aim. “This wealth—'tis mine—
How best avail it? as a lever, so
To raise me to their level?—ah no! in hate
I left them, and in hate must turn on them;
For this new hate is bitterer than the old,
Since it hath better means to wreak itself.
No, then; this lever—'tis to overthrow,
Not raise—o'erthrow their pride—then huddle them
Aheap—and tread them with their frippery
Of straw and feather in the main mixed clay—
Make bricks of them—ah, good!”
Awhile; and all that life was broken law,
Confounding rule with riot; bursting bounds,
Daring the worst of danger, day by day,
Till daring became feverish hankering thirst,
With danger for its diet—so high-strained
Is but short-lived—outrage and penalty
Crossing so often must needs meet at last:
As he ere long had felt. But Fortune's sun,
Suddenly shining, cleared his outward cloud—
But not his own worse vapours from within—
However, luck befriended him—if that
Be friendly to pour down on him a flood
Where only showers were needed. Such a gush
Of wealth, so strange, as hurried his life-stream
89
Nor did he long contain him—for that turn
Of fortune turned his thought and working will
From his late wont of riotous recklessness
To a stern earnest aim. “This wealth—'tis mine—
How best avail it? as a lever, so
To raise me to their level?—ah no! in hate
I left them, and in hate must turn on them;
For this new hate is bitterer than the old,
Since it hath better means to wreak itself.
No, then; this lever—'tis to overthrow,
Not raise—o'erthrow their pride—then huddle them
Aheap—and tread them with their frippery
Of straw and feather in the main mixed clay—
Make bricks of them—ah, good!”
| Ernest | |