 | [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet |  |
238
THE LEAN MAN
Wo—for the lean and lanky man—
The fleshless and the grim—
The pleasant light of merry joy
May never rest on him!—
The man whose ghostly shadow seems
A long and narrow line—
Who eats and drinks, yet groweth not,
Like Pharaoh's evil kine.
The fleshless and the grim—
The pleasant light of merry joy
May never rest on him!—
The man whose ghostly shadow seems
A long and narrow line—
Who eats and drinks, yet groweth not,
Like Pharaoh's evil kine.
He sitteth at the dinner board,
Cadaverous and cold,
As was the veiled sketeton
At Egypt's feast of old;
Yet worketh well his lantern jaw,
And fast his fingers fill,—
Your fleshless ones are noted for
Their gastronomic skill.
Cadaverous and cold,
As was the veiled sketeton
At Egypt's feast of old;
Yet worketh well his lantern jaw,
And fast his fingers fill,—
Your fleshless ones are noted for
Their gastronomic skill.
He walketh in the market place
Amidst the stirring throng—
A locomotive skeleton—
The bony and the long—
Like some wire-moved anatomy
He passeth by alone—
And men will pause, as if to hear
The clash of bone on bone.
Amidst the stirring throng—
A locomotive skeleton—
The bony and the long—
Like some wire-moved anatomy
He passeth by alone—
And men will pause, as if to hear
The clash of bone on bone.
The lean may scoff at grosser men—
'Tis Envy's self alone—
They all would change their skeletons
For bodies over-grown.
Ay—rather than their form so lean
And spectre-like and dry,
They'd welcome Falstaff's portly front,
Or Daniel Lambert's thigh.
'Tis Envy's self alone—
They all would change their skeletons
For bodies over-grown.
Ay—rather than their form so lean
And spectre-like and dry,
They'd welcome Falstaff's portly front,
Or Daniel Lambert's thigh.
Haverhill Iris, February 4, 1832
| [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet | |