In Cornwall and Across the Sea With Poems Written in Devonshire. By Douglas B. W. Sladen |
 |
 | I. |
| II. |
B. A. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | In Cornwall and Across the Sea |  |
178
B. A.
Free,
To go for a scud on the sunny sea!
The study at morning and midnight done,
The scribbled old books on the sofa thrown,
The ink-pot left open to choke with dust,
With an old J nib in it stiff with rust,
And a red and blue pencil, in need of cutting,
Sticking out of a drawer too full for shutting.
To go for a scud on the sunny sea!
The study at morning and midnight done,
The scribbled old books on the sofa thrown,
The ink-pot left open to choke with dust,
With an old J nib in it stiff with rust,
And a red and blue pencil, in need of cutting,
Sticking out of a drawer too full for shutting.
Done!
And now I am free for a bask in the sun,
Or reading a legend of ancient birth
Of men, who have long since mingled with earth
On the shores of the Mediterranean,
Or to watch how Irene toys with her fan
To eke out a story, as old as Adam,
When Monsieur Moustache is with beautiful madam.
And now I am free for a bask in the sun,
Or reading a legend of ancient birth
Of men, who have long since mingled with earth
On the shores of the Mediterranean,
Or to watch how Irene toys with her fan
To eke out a story, as old as Adam,
When Monsieur Moustache is with beautiful madam.
179
All!
Are you sure that my “scout” will not give me a call,
To be up with the lark and retrieve the work
That overnight pleasure had made me shirk?
May I chat over lunch and have out my sleep,
Without having one eye on the clock to keep?
May I once again act as if I was human,
And venture to look on the charms of woman?
Are you sure that my “scout” will not give me a call,
To be up with the lark and retrieve the work
That overnight pleasure had made me shirk?
May I chat over lunch and have out my sleep,
Without having one eye on the clock to keep?
May I once again act as if I was human,
And venture to look on the charms of woman?
Yes!
That vision has passed in its hideousness:
Henceforth, without favour or fear, I can
Look the world in the face, and stand up a man:
For no tyranny crushes the heart and soul
With its cruel exactions of time and toll,
Like that which determines os much our station
In life—our arch-bogy—examination.
That vision has passed in its hideousness:
Henceforth, without favour or fear, I can
Look the world in the face, and stand up a man:
For no tyranny crushes the heart and soul
With its cruel exactions of time and toll,
Like that which determines os much our station
In life—our arch-bogy—examination.
| In Cornwall and Across the Sea | |