 | Songs of Doubt and Dream (Poems) |  |
109
CAPRICE.
(A certain Mood of a Certain Mind.)
It is so supremely odd,
I must laugh, in spite of spleen.
Here I am, a sort of god,
In a temple purely mine,
Having worshipers who mean
Right obeisantly, no doubt,
Going in and going out,
With their raiment rich and fine;
Going up the marble stairs
In their trios and their pairs;
Coming, going all the year,
Just to pay me homage here.
I must laugh, in spite of spleen.
Here I am, a sort of god,
In a temple purely mine,
Having worshipers who mean
Right obeisantly, no doubt,
Going in and going out,
With their raiment rich and fine;
Going up the marble stairs
In their trios and their pairs;
Coming, going all the year,
Just to pay me homage here.
I cannot help but laugh,
It is so superbly queer
That I, with more by half
Than my wildest wish could choose;
With my costly rubbish, got
Anywhere, one might say,
From Lapland to Cathay;
With my glass, a hundred hues,
And my grand books, and my lot
Of antique gems, pure, unflawed.
And my enviable huge hoard
Of pictures,—and untold
Money behind it all,
With a name whereto such old
Memories of riches cling,
That when spoken it seems to ring
Like a sudden blow on gold.
It is so superbly queer
That I, with more by half
Than my wildest wish could choose;
With my costly rubbish, got
Anywhere, one might say,
From Lapland to Cathay;
With my glass, a hundred hues,
110
Of antique gems, pure, unflawed.
And my enviable huge hoard
Of pictures,—and untold
Money behind it all,
With a name whereto such old
Memories of riches cling,
That when spoken it seems to ring
Like a sudden blow on gold.
It is so acutely strange,
One is forced to laugh, you know!
Yet for me the chill of change
Is like bare feet plunged in snow.
Now, were she some great dame,
I should smile, and let it pass;
But a little low-born lass—
Why 'tis utterly not the same!
A mere street-girl, who sells
Buds and violets in the square,
(With two waves of red-gold hair
Over black-lashed purplish eyes)
A poor slight girl, who dwells
In some attic, on coarse fare,
Yet who placidly repels
The chance of queenlike ease,
And to breakfast, if she please,
On a pearl, Cleopatra-wise!
One is forced to laugh, you know!
Yet for me the chill of change
Is like bare feet plunged in snow.
Now, were she some great dame,
I should smile, and let it pass;
But a little low-born lass—
Why 'tis utterly not the same!
A mere street-girl, who sells
Buds and violets in the square,
(With two waves of red-gold hair
Over black-lashed purplish eyes)
A poor slight girl, who dwells
In some attic, on coarse fare,
Yet who placidly repels
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And to breakfast, if she please,
On a pearl, Cleopatra-wise!
It is so intensely quaint,
I must laugh, in spite of pride.
To see my power defied
By this reedlike frailty here!—
To get her dauntless “no”
From this unexpected saint,
This problem in calico,
With a few scant loaves a year,—
Who dares in one life, thus,
Be hungry and virtuous!
I must laugh, in spite of pride.
To see my power defied
By this reedlike frailty here!—
To get her dauntless “no”
From this unexpected saint,
This problem in calico,
With a few scant loaves a year,—
Who dares in one life, thus,
Be hungry and virtuous!
It is so uniquely droll,
It will end I know not how.
For when a man like me,
Who has never learned till now
What thing it is to be
Thwarted in any need—
With whom desire is goal
Already unto deed—
When a man like me shall say
“I wish,” and find all ways
But one strait single way
Baffling intention's greed,
Then it should not much amaze
If he set his teeth and cried
With imperious headlong ire,
“'Tis enough that I desire;
I will not be denied!”
It will end I know not how.
For when a man like me,
Who has never learned till now
What thing it is to be
Thwarted in any need—
With whom desire is goal
Already unto deed—
When a man like me shall say
“I wish,” and find all ways
But one strait single way
112
Then it should not much amaze
If he set his teeth and cried
With imperious headlong ire,
“'Tis enough that I desire;
I will not be denied!”
And so, my little lass,
Vending violets in the square
(With your black-lashed purplish eyes
Under waves of red-gold hair),
Since it thus should come to pass
That I waste all this immense
Self-believed omnipotence
On a weakness that defies,
Refuses, and at length
Seems a citidel of strength—
Should it therefore wake surprise
In the world that I despise,
If I took that one strait way,
If I .. married you, some day?
Vending violets in the square
(With your black-lashed purplish eyes
Under waves of red-gold hair),
Since it thus should come to pass
That I waste all this immense
Self-believed omnipotence
On a weakness that defies,
Refuses, and at length
Seems a citidel of strength—
Should it therefore wake surprise
In the world that I despise,
If I took that one strait way,
If I .. married you, some day?
| Songs of Doubt and Dream (Poems) | |