 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
BARTON GEER.
Here, from the red-brick forests to the greener,
From dusty streets to grassy rural ways,
I come with quiet heart and calm demeanor,
To find, while fixing on this scene my gaze,
The mind grow clearer, and the vision keener,
The spirit piercing through its mental haze.
From dusty streets to grassy rural ways,
I come with quiet heart and calm demeanor,
To find, while fixing on this scene my gaze,
The mind grow clearer, and the vision keener,
The spirit piercing through its mental haze.
No tinge of wrong to darken sinless matter;
No grasping avarice, and no sordid fear;
No stooping in this place to fawn or flatter;
No greed of gain, as in a city, here—
Ah! how such language sounds like bitter satire
While looking at the house of Barton Geer!
No grasping avarice, and no sordid fear;
No stooping in this place to fawn or flatter;
No greed of gain, as in a city, here—
Ah! how such language sounds like bitter satire
While looking at the house of Barton Geer!
Yonder it stands—the great stone buildings by it,
Stables and barns, one time with plenty lined—
Where a wild spendthrift wasted gold in riot
Gay in the present, to the future blind,
While Barton Geer himself in mouldering quiet,
Lay in his grave, his riches left behind.
Stables and barns, one time with plenty lined—
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Gay in the present, to the future blind,
While Barton Geer himself in mouldering quiet,
Lay in his grave, his riches left behind.
There were no arts devised to heap up treasure
Too low for Barton's use; no cunning mode
Too vile for him; too base he found no measure;
He gained his goal by any crooked road;
To see his riches grow his only pleasure;
“Get when you can,” comprised his moral code.
Too low for Barton's use; no cunning mode
Too vile for him; too base he found no measure;
He gained his goal by any crooked road;
To see his riches grow his only pleasure;
“Get when you can,” comprised his moral code.
“Cheating can't prosper,” here nor yet hereafter,
And even knaves should hence refrain to cheat;
He gave such musty proverbs scornful laughter,
Relaxed no grip no matter who'd entreat,
And, though you filled his house from sill to rafter
With victims' moans, would think it music sweet.
And even knaves should hence refrain to cheat;
He gave such musty proverbs scornful laughter,
Relaxed no grip no matter who'd entreat,
And, though you filled his house from sill to rafter
With victims' moans, would think it music sweet.
Though through his life to impulse kind defiant,
He left his wealth a hospital to build;
And, doing that, upon his craft reliant,
Being in devices eminently skilled,
Was his own lawyer, with a fool for client,
With his own will, and failed in what he willed.
He left his wealth a hospital to build;
And, doing that, upon his craft reliant,
Being in devices eminently skilled,
Was his own lawyer, with a fool for client,
With his own will, and failed in what he willed.
A bachelor, he had one kinsman solely,
A distant cousin whom he hated much,
And whom he swore, with many an oath unholy,
Should never his possessions hold or touch,
Not even when their owner's form lay lowly,
And its cold hands no more his gold could clutch.
A distant cousin whom he hated much,
And whom he swore, with many an oath unholy,
Should never his possessions hold or touch,
Not even when their owner's form lay lowly,
And its cold hands no more his gold could clutch.
They broke the will; the one so fiercely hated
Was held the heir, and took the wealth of Geer;
It was not long ere that was dissipated—
Drinking and gaming swept it in a year.
What came by wrong, to go by wrong was fated;
Who earned, who spent—both bodies moulder here.
Was held the heir, and took the wealth of Geer;
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Drinking and gaming swept it in a year.
What came by wrong, to go by wrong was fated;
Who earned, who spent—both bodies moulder here.
Slight traces of them now; few have a notion
Which was the miser, which the spendthrift heir;
The heaving billows of Time's restless ocean
Shall soon their memory to oblivion bear;
Yet evermore, with ever-ceaseless motion,
New life moves on, and nature is as fair.
Which was the miser, which the spendthrift heir;
The heaving billows of Time's restless ocean
Shall soon their memory to oblivion bear;
Yet evermore, with ever-ceaseless motion,
New life moves on, and nature is as fair.
I stand where lived the twain; the wind, gay rover,
The sweets it steals from blossoms, scatters free;
The blue, unclouded sky is bending over;
The birds they flit and twitter in yon tree;
The bees are droning as they milk the clover—
What now am I to Geer, or Geer to me?
The sweets it steals from blossoms, scatters free;
The blue, unclouded sky is bending over;
The birds they flit and twitter in yon tree;
The bees are droning as they milk the clover—
What now am I to Geer, or Geer to me?
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |