 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
365
RISEN FROM THE LAPSTONE.
“Risen from the lapstone”—this I heard them say
Of one a little richer than the rest;
They spoke the words in an admiring way,
As though among all good men he were best.
I sought the history of this honored man,
To profit by it; to my great surprise
I learned he had succeeded in a plan
To gather wealth by meanness, fraud and lies.
Of one a little richer than the rest;
They spoke the words in an admiring way,
As though among all good men he were best.
I sought the history of this honored man,
To profit by it; to my great surprise
I learned he had succeeded in a plan
To gather wealth by meanness, fraud and lies.
There was no trick of gain that he would shun;
There was no mean device he left untried,
If haply thus some profits might be won:
All which they told me with apparent pride.
They merely saw the gold the man had gained,
The stocks he owned, the lands he held in fee:
Nor were their coarser natures shocked or pained
By what the shirt of Nessus seemed to be.
There was no mean device he left untried,
If haply thus some profits might be won:
All which they told me with apparent pride.
They merely saw the gold the man had gained,
The stocks he owned, the lands he held in fee:
Nor were their coarser natures shocked or pained
By what the shirt of Nessus seemed to be.
“Risen from the lapstone”—others said the same,
And curled their lips, and gave a scornful leer,
As though the lapstone were a thing of shame,
The fitting subject for a bitter sneer.
Their scorn was for the honest trade at which
The man had ceaseless wrought in manhood's prime,
Not for the practices that made him rich:
Their sneer was for his calling, not his crime.
And curled their lips, and gave a scornful leer,
As though the lapstone were a thing of shame,
The fitting subject for a bitter sneer.
Their scorn was for the honest trade at which
The man had ceaseless wrought in manhood's prime,
Not for the practices that made him rich:
Their sneer was for his calling, not his crime.
Gaining his wealth so vilely, did he rise?
What fool asserts it? When his hammer's clank
Spoke frequent from the lapstone, in our eyes
He could not well attain a higher rank;
But when through avarice he threw away
Good men's respect, became the slave of greed,
Pinched here, grasped yonder, crawling day by day—
We knew he found the lowest depth indeed.
What fool asserts it? When his hammer's clank
Spoke frequent from the lapstone, in our eyes
He could not well attain a higher rank;
366
Good men's respect, became the slave of greed,
Pinched here, grasped yonder, crawling day by day—
We knew he found the lowest depth indeed.
Labor is honor. He who toils, creates,
And who creates above mere idlers stands;
He is a soft-brained fool who arrogates
Himself great credit for his stainless hands;
Yet he who riches wins by patient toil,
And honest thrift, and noble enterprise,
Keeping his spirit free from taint and soil,
Be he but modest, may be said to rise.
And who creates above mere idlers stands;
He is a soft-brained fool who arrogates
Himself great credit for his stainless hands;
Yet he who riches wins by patient toil,
And honest thrift, and noble enterprise,
Keeping his spirit free from taint and soil,
Be he but modest, may be said to rise.
Labor has dignity. Kings held the plow
And deemed it honor. The incarnate God
Till middle manhood bathed his sacred brow
With labor's dew. And publish it abroad
That those who win immunity from toil
By petty tricks that hold the soul in thrall,
By meannesses that name and honor soil,
From their condition do not rise, but fall.
And deemed it honor. The incarnate God
Till middle manhood bathed his sacred brow
With labor's dew. And publish it abroad
That those who win immunity from toil
By petty tricks that hold the soul in thrall,
By meannesses that name and honor soil,
From their condition do not rise, but fall.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |