 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
POMPEY, THE FIDDLER.
And so, my black and shining fiddler,
You're sitting by yourself alone,
As still and quiet as a statue
By sculptor wrought from ebon stone.
You nothing know of this same riddle
Which puts all thinking men in pain;
So rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And play us “Money Musk” again.
You're sitting by yourself alone,
As still and quiet as a statue
By sculptor wrought from ebon stone.
You nothing know of this same riddle
Which puts all thinking men in pain;
So rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And play us “Money Musk” again.
674
There was a time, my dark musician,
When statesmen only ruled the land,
And men were spurned who strove to meddle
With things they could not understand.
The times have changed—there lies the riddle
Which many seek to solve in vain;
Then rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And play us “Money Musk” again.
When statesmen only ruled the land,
And men were spurned who strove to meddle
With things they could not understand.
The times have changed—there lies the riddle
Which many seek to solve in vain;
Then rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And play us “Money Musk” again.
There was a time when good men only
Could high positions hope to win,
When men of courtesy held office;
Now, Holt and Stanton both are in.
Are people dogs? That is a riddle
Which, Pompey, you can not explain;
So rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And give us “Money Musk” again.
Could high positions hope to win,
When men of courtesy held office;
Now, Holt and Stanton both are in.
Are people dogs? That is a riddle
Which, Pompey, you can not explain;
So rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And give us “Money Musk” again.
There was a time the Constitution
Was held to be the law supreme;
That men in power would trample on it
We did not even dare to dream.
They do it, though; and that's a riddle
That serves to rack the coolest brain;
But rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And play us “Money Musk” again.
Was held to be the law supreme;
That men in power would trample on it
We did not even dare to dream.
They do it, though; and that's a riddle
That serves to rack the coolest brain;
But rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And play us “Money Musk” again.
There was a time when by the ballot,
And not by bayonets, rulers came;
Who in those days would strive for honors,
By force or fraud, would come to shame.
Cowards are tyrants. That's no riddle;
A statement only, true and plain;
So rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And play us “Money Musk” again.
And not by bayonets, rulers came;
Who in those days would strive for honors,
By force or fraud, would come to shame.
Cowards are tyrants. That's no riddle;
A statement only, true and plain;
So rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And play us “Money Musk” again.
675
There was a time when law was potent,
And tyrants by the land abhorred;
Now shoulder-straps replace the ermine,
And judges bow before the sword.
Has God—and that's a startling riddle—
Sent civil war as Freedom's bane?
Bah! rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And play us “Money Musk” again.
And tyrants by the land abhorred;
Now shoulder-straps replace the ermine,
And judges bow before the sword.
Has God—and that's a startling riddle—
Sent civil war as Freedom's bane?
Bah! rosin your bow and tune your fiddle,
And play us “Money Musk” again.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |