 | The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay |  |
349
THAT IS THE WAY.
I
To leave your business all day long,To pass your time in jest and song,
To haunt casinos, taverns, plays,
Or in your bed to spend your days;
To look for bread to dead men's wills,
To ask a Jew to cash your bills,
Or trust the word of all you meet,—
That is the way to Portugal Street.
II
To overtax your weary brain;To drink deep draughts and fill again;
To go to law and think it sport
To hunt your cause from court to court;
To muse too fiercely on a wrong,
To look at darkness all day long;
To grieve and pine, to scorn and hate,—
That is the way to Bedlam-gate.
III
To give a woman all her will,Rebellious but submissive still;
To love your quiet more than right,
And rather be oppress'd than fight;
To fear short-commons, not the Bench;
To borrow when you should retrench;
From duns to hide, from writs to flee,—
That is the way to slavery.
350
IV
To yield to pleasures like a rage,And spend in youth the strength of age;
To think, with silver on your hair,
That you are young, as once you were;
To feed your fever, scorn your cold;
To marry when you're crazy old,
Or trust to quacks your health to save,—
That is the way, the way to the grave.
V
To love your art, and at its callTo yield your health, your wealth, your all,
And live on humble bread and cheese;
To love it more than fame or ease;
To heed no scorn of rival schools,
And laugh at critics when they're fools;
To please the wise, and not the town,—
That is the way to high renown.
VI
To keep life's balance true and fair,To breathe contentment like the air;
To live but as your purse allows,
To love your children and your spouse;
To take delight in Nature's plan,
Adoring God, nor fearing man,
Avoiding anger, pride, excess,—
That is the way to happiness.
| The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay | |