Griselda A Tragedy: And Other Poems. By Edwin Arnold |
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THE POOR SCHOLAR TO HIS POUND STERLING. |
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 | Griselda |  |
244
THE POOR SCHOLAR TO HIS POUND STERLING.
Gold! as I'm a starving sinner!
Saint Cecilia! what a chink!—
I'll ordain a regal dinner,—
Gods! I'll eat and drink.
Saint Cecilia! what a chink!—
I'll ordain a regal dinner,—
Gods! I'll eat and drink.
Counter in the game of living,
Buying deuce, knave, queen, and king,
Bartered, borrowed, given, giving,
Potent yellow thing!
Buying deuce, knave, queen, and king,
Bartered, borrowed, given, giving,
Potent yellow thing!
Now I feel, I see thy story,
Grecian, gold-won Danae;—
If one comes with grace and glory,
What must a shower be?
Grecian, gold-won Danae;—
If one comes with grace and glory,
What must a shower be?
246
Oh, Fortuna! and this morning
Thou mightest have spared me my Catullus,
And stilled my landlady's shrill warning,
Instead of sweet Tibullus.
Thou mightest have spared me my Catullus,
And stilled my landlady's shrill warning,
Instead of sweet Tibullus.
Too late! I dined on old Homerus,
And Plautus paid my washing bill;
Well! “carus,” stranger, “tamen serus,”
Thou'rt most welcome still.
And Plautus paid my washing bill;
Well! “carus,” stranger, “tamen serus,”
Thou'rt most welcome still.
Nay, but stay! it can't be really
All a solemn sterling pound,
I've seen so few—I'll ring it fairly:
Mammon! there's a sound!
All a solemn sterling pound,
I've seen so few—I'll ring it fairly:
Mammon! there's a sound!
Yea! by all the sands of Hermus,
By Apollo's golden bow,
See, my soul! these signs confirm us,
'Tis—where shall we go?
By Apollo's golden bow,
See, my soul! these signs confirm us,
'Tis—where shall we go?
247
Venison's in, and at the Sceptre
Splendidly I know they dress it,
Had I two!—ah! sage preceptor,
“Amor nummi crescit.”
Splendidly I know they dress it,
Had I two!—ah! sage preceptor,
“Amor nummi crescit.”
For the potent charm that binds thee,
Shillings twenty! to my heart,
Is—whoever after finds thee,
Thou and I must part.
Shillings twenty! to my heart,
Is—whoever after finds thee,
Thou and I must part.
Lo! mine inn!—Hence, cares! in “mare
Creticum,”—or down to Greenwich.
Creticum,”—or down to Greenwich.
Is this after all but fairy
Land,—or lamb and spinach?
Land,—or lamb and spinach?
Waiter, ho! “vinum deprome,—”
Bring an amphora, I say—
Dost thou better seek to know me?
Doubtest thou I'll pay?
Bring an amphora, I say—
Dost thou better seek to know me?
Doubtest thou I'll pay?
248
Lo! the coin! quick, varlet, quicker!
Napkined knave! mistrustful churl!—
Cleopatra-like, in liquor
Thus I melt my pearl.
Napkined knave! mistrustful churl!—
Cleopatra-like, in liquor
Thus I melt my pearl.
| Griselda | |