Recaptured Rhymes Being a Batch of Political and Other Fugitives Arrested and Brought to Book. By H. D. Traill |
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 | POST LUSUS SERIA |
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 | Recaptured Rhymes |  |
POST LUSUS SERIA
TO A FAMOUS PARLIAMENT.
Hunc neque dira venena nec hosticus auferet ensis
Nec laterum dolor aut tussis nec tarda podagra;
Garrulus hunc quando consumet cumque; loquace
Si sapiat, vitet, simul atque adoleverit aetas.
Nec laterum dolor aut tussis nec tarda podagra;
Garrulus hunc quando consumet cumque; loquace
Si sapiat, vitet, simul atque adoleverit aetas.
As one who from the glacier past the vine
Follows the slow debasement of the Rhine
To where its foiled and sluggish waters creep
Through sand-obstructed channels to the deep—
As such an one may in fantastic mood
Muse on the checkered fortunes of the flood,
The source majestic whence its streams descend,
Its proud career and its ignoble end,—
Thus—but in sober earnestness—are we,
O English Parliament, to think of thee?
124
The long-descended and the high-renowned!
O thou whose shame or glory is our own,
Born with our birth, and with our growth upgrown!
Was it for this the wasting hand of time,
Perils of youth, and maladies of prime,
Spared thee so long? O thou who first didst draw
In a rude age the infant breath of law,
And, storing silent increments of life
Through our long era of dynastic strife,
Take gradual heart of grace thy voice to raise
From whispering humbleness of Tudor days;
Wrest the high sceptre from thy Stuart lords;
Bend only for an hour to Cromwell's swords;
Live faction down, break through corruption's chains,
And of the Walpole-poison purge thy veins;
Wax stronger and still stronger, till the land
Saw all its forces gathered to thine hand—
Didst thou thus triumph that thou thus shouldst fall?
Is that proud head that towers over all
125
Had ever splendid life so mean a close
As thine will show, if thou, for all thy past,
Must die of talk and Irishmen at last?
126
ON A FAMOUS BILL: THE LAWYER'S SOLILOQUY.
I hold it clear, as one who sings
The party song in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of brazen speech to higher things.
The party song in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of brazen speech to higher things.
And, holding this as maxim chief,
Ill were my part of lawyer played
Did I not welcome undismayed
The burden of this desperate brief.
Ill were my part of lawyer played
Did I not welcome undismayed
The burden of this desperate brief.
For well his trade he understood,
And wise that statesman was, I wot,
Who valued their assistance not
That helped him when his case was good:
And wise that statesman was, I wot,
Who valued their assistance not
That helped him when his case was good:
127
Who knew how cheaply could be had
The summer-weather partisan,
And used to say, “Give me the man
That backs me when my case is bad!”
The summer-weather partisan,
And used to say, “Give me the man
That backs me when my case is bad!”
I am that man. Behold in me
A faithful yeoman of debate,
Ever at hand the case to state
For Land Bill Number Twenty-three.
A faithful yeoman of debate,
Ever at hand the case to state
For Land Bill Number Twenty-three.
O Bill, unfriended of the wise,
Poor derelict of truth and sense,
Thy blackest blot and worst offence
Is light and virtue in my eyes.
Poor derelict of truth and sense,
Thy blackest blot and worst offence
Is light and virtue in my eyes.
They say thy purpose is concealed,
And that the coy design which strays
Nymph-like, through tangled woods of phrase
Might blush to find itself revealed.
And that the coy design which strays
Nymph-like, through tangled woods of phrase
Might blush to find itself revealed.
128
The more the need that I should spare
No pains to lead the chase awry,
The while I vigorously cry,
“The nymph, although unseen, is fair!”
No pains to lead the chase awry,
The while I vigorously cry,
“The nymph, although unseen, is fair!”
The dull Economist fulfils
His mission to denounce thy scheme
As flattery of the peasant's dream
And worsening of his waking ills.
His mission to denounce thy scheme
As flattery of the peasant's dream
And worsening of his waking ills.
The greater the demand on me
For cheaply manufactured sneers
At imbeciles who feed their fears
On bugbears of Economy.
For cheaply manufactured sneers
At imbeciles who feed their fears
On bugbears of Economy.
Of contracts' broken faith they prate,
Of justice made a Lesbian rule,
And law degraded to the tool
Of mean expediencies of State.
Of justice made a Lesbian rule,
And law degraded to the tool
Of mean expediencies of State.
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And here they touch me nearly—here
They press me home: yet only so
Can all the party zeal I show
Clothed in its full deserts appear.
They press me home: yet only so
Can all the party zeal I show
Clothed in its full deserts appear.
So much the greater shall my feat
Of bold apostasy be found,
So louder shall my praises sound
Where Tadpoles and where Tapers meet,
Of bold apostasy be found,
So louder shall my praises sound
Where Tadpoles and where Tapers meet,
In that I falter not nor swerve
From Ministerial paths, nor err
Through foolish reverence for Her
Whose bread I eat, whose shrine I serve:
From Ministerial paths, nor err
Through foolish reverence for Her
Whose bread I eat, whose shrine I serve:
That, holding Justice not in awe,
I find no filial wrath upflame
Though bastard legislation shame
The household of her priestess, Law;
I find no filial wrath upflame
Though bastard legislation shame
The household of her priestess, Law;
130
But bear to see her bed defiled—
Nay, dare, unnaturally brave,
To strike my mother dead to save
Blind Faction's misbegotten child!
Nay, dare, unnaturally brave,
To strike my mother dead to save
Blind Faction's misbegotten child!
131
AVE CÆSAR! MORTUI TE SALUTANT.
(June 1879.)
“Yes, it is well to mourn him,” foes
Alike with friends can say;
That bright young life's pathetic close
Disarms all hates to-day.
Alike with friends can say;
That bright young life's pathetic close
Disarms all hates to-day.
None needs to grudge that there be flung
On that untimely grave
All flowers of pity for the young,
The innocent, the brave.
On that untimely grave
All flowers of pity for the young,
The innocent, the brave.
Not his the sins that marred his land,
Though they were sinned for him;
No war was kindled by his hand
Because his star grew dim.
Though they were sinned for him;
No war was kindled by his hand
Because his star grew dim.
132
And therefore it is well that now
The willing tear be shed
For the poor stripling Prince laid low
Among inglorious dead.
The willing tear be shed
For the poor stripling Prince laid low
Among inglorious dead.
But also well that we should mark
Hovering above the gate
Of death, the levelled hand, the dark
And awful brows of Fate;
Hovering above the gate
Of death, the levelled hand, the dark
And awful brows of Fate;
And hear what ghostly murmurs swell
Around the fatal spot,
From countless shades of those who fell
At Wörth and Gravelotte.
Around the fatal spot,
From countless shades of those who fell
At Wörth and Gravelotte.
“What robe of empire now clothes on
This body pierced and bare?
Where is the purple, Cæsar's son,
We died that you might wear?
This body pierced and bare?
Where is the purple, Cæsar's son,
We died that you might wear?
133
Was it for this we shed our blood,
For this poor naked prey
Of savage wile, this fated food
For Zulu assegai?
For this poor naked prey
Of savage wile, this fated food
For Zulu assegai?
Left we for this our children dear,
Sweet faces of our wives?
Caesar—if Death the dead can hear—
Give back to us our lives!”
Sweet faces of our wives?
Caesar—if Death the dead can hear—
Give back to us our lives!”
134
THE AGE OF DESPAIR.
“Drink deep of life ere death's unending calm
Enfold thee round.” So runs the dreary psalm,
Miscalled a song of joy, by poets sung,
From jesting Horace down to grave Khayyam.
Enfold thee round.” So runs the dreary psalm,
Miscalled a song of joy, by poets sung,
From jesting Horace down to grave Khayyam.
We sing it now; but who that sings achieves
One hour's pure triumph over him who grieves?
Who can rejoice in summer, if his heart
Fore-hear the rustle of the falling leaves?
One hour's pure triumph over him who grieves?
Who can rejoice in summer, if his heart
Fore-hear the rustle of the falling leaves?
Vainly the farce of gaiety is played;
Death smiles sardonic on the poor parade;
Nor can our hollow laughters exorcise
That spectre whom the old-world revellers laid.
Death smiles sardonic on the poor parade;
Nor can our hollow laughters exorcise
That spectre whom the old-world revellers laid.
135
The rose they wreathed around the careless head,
The wine they poured, the perfumes that they shed,
The eyes that smiled on them, the lips they pressed,
For us what are they? Faded, vapid, dead!
The wine they poured, the perfumes that they shed,
The eyes that smiled on them, the lips they pressed,
For us what are they? Faded, vapid, dead!
Dead is for us the rose we know must die;
Long ere we drain the goblet it is dry;
And, even as we kiss, the distant grave
Chills the warm lip and dims the lustrous eye!
Long ere we drain the goblet it is dry;
And, even as we kiss, the distant grave
Chills the warm lip and dims the lustrous eye!
Too far our race has journeyed from its birth;
Too far Death casts his shadow o'er the earth.
Ah! what remains to strengthen and support
Our hearts, since they have lost the trick of mirth,
Too far Death casts his shadow o'er the earth.
Ah! what remains to strengthen and support
Our hearts, since they have lost the trick of mirth,
The stay of fortitude? The lofty pride
Wherewith the sages of the Porch denied
That pain and death are evils, and proclaimed
Lawful the exit of the suicide?
Wherewith the sages of the Porch denied
That pain and death are evils, and proclaimed
Lawful the exit of the suicide?
136
Alas, not so! No Stoic calm is ours;
We dread the thorns who joy not in the flowers.
We dare not breathe the mountain-air of Pain,
Droop as we may in Pleasure's stifling bowers.
We dread the thorns who joy not in the flowers.
We dare not breathe the mountain-air of Pain,
Droop as we may in Pleasure's stifling bowers.
What profits it, if here and there we see
A spirit nerved by trust in God's decree,
Who fronts the grave in firmness of the faith
Taught by the Carpenter of Galilee?
A spirit nerved by trust in God's decree,
Who fronts the grave in firmness of the faith
Taught by the Carpenter of Galilee?
Who needs not wine nor roses, lute nor lyre,
Scorns life, or quits it by the gate of fire,
Erect and fearless—what is that to us
Who hold him for the dupe of vain desire?
Scorns life, or quits it by the gate of fire,
Erect and fearless—what is that to us
Who hold him for the dupe of vain desire?
Can we who wake enjoy the dreamer's dream?
Will the parched treeless waste less hideous seem
Because there shines before some foolish eyes
Mirage of waving wood and silver stream?
Will the parched treeless waste less hideous seem
Because there shines before some foolish eyes
Mirage of waving wood and silver stream?
137
Ah, miserable race! Too weak to bear,
Too sad for mirth, too sceptical for prayer!
Surely on you the Scripture is fulfilled,
To bid the mountains cover your despair!
Too sad for mirth, too sceptical for prayer!
Surely on you the Scripture is fulfilled,
To bid the mountains cover your despair!
| Recaptured Rhymes | |