The Works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti :: :: University of Virginia Library

Many there are, praisers of Poverty;
The which as man's best state is register'd
When by free choice preferred,
With strict observance having nothing here.
For this they find certain authority
Wrought of an over-nice interpreting.
Now as concerns such thing,
A hard extreme it doth to me appear,
Which to commend I fear,
For seldom are extremes without some vice.
Let every edifice,
Of work or word, secure foundation find;
Against the potent wind,
And all things perilous, so well prepar'd
That it need no correction afterward.

Of poverty which is against the will,
It never can be doubted that therein
Lies broad the way to sin.
For oftentimes it makes the judge unjust;
In dames and damsels doth their honour kill;
And begets violence and villanies,
And theft and wicked lies,
And casts a good man from his fellows' trust.
And for a little dust
Of gold that lacks, wit seems a lacking too.
If once the coat give view
Of the real back, farewell all dignity.
Each therefore strives that he
Should by no means admit her to his sight,
Who, only thought on, makes his face turn white.

Of poverty which seems by choice elect,
I may pronounce from plain experience,—
Not of mine own pretence,—
That 'tis observed or unobserved at will.
Nor its observance asks our full respect:
For no discernment, nor integrity,
Nor lore of life, nor plea
Of virtue, can her cold regard instil.
I call it shame and ill
To name as virtue that which stifles good.
I call it grossly rude,
On a thing bestial to make consequent
Virtue's inspired advènt
To understanding hearts acceptable:
For the most wise most love with her to dwell.

Here mayst thou find some issue of demur:
For lo! our Lord commendeth poverty.
Nay, what His meaning be
Search well: His words are wonderfully deep,

405

Oft doubly sensed, asking interpreter.
The state for each most saving, is His will
For each. Thine eyes unseal,
And look within, the inmost truth to reap.
Behold what concord keep
His holy words with His most holy life.
In Him the power was rife
Which to all things apportions time and place.
On earth He chose such case;
And why? 'Twas His to point a higher life.

But here, on earth, our senses show us still
How they who preach this thing are least at peace,
And evermore increase
Much thought how from this thing they should escape.
For if one such a lofty station fill,
He shall assert his strength like a wild wolf,
Or daily mask himself
Afresh, until his will be brought to shape;
Ay, and so wear the cape
That direst wolf shall seem like sweetest lamb
Beneath the constant sham.
Hence, by their art, this doctrine plagues the world:
And hence, till they be hurl'd
From where they sit in high hypocrisy,
No corner of the world seems safe to me.

Go, Song, to some sworn owls that we have known
And on their folly bring them to reflect:
But if they be stiff-neck'd,
Belabour them until their heads are down.