 | Thought and word |  |
59
A NURSERY RHYME FOR THE ELDERS.
The Masters of the World when we are gone
Play round our knees, look up to us with awe,
From our lips take their earliest deepest law;
In jest we mould the clay that turns to stone,
Give little care what sort of seed is sown,
What weeds therewith, or venoms. If we saw
The Future, with our part distinctly shown,
Vulture Remorse might tear us, beak and claw.
Play round our knees, look up to us with awe,
From our lips take their earliest deepest law;
In jest we mould the clay that turns to stone,
Give little care what sort of seed is sown,
What weeds therewith, or venoms. If we saw
The Future, with our part distinctly shown,
Vulture Remorse might tear us, beak and claw.
Dolt! Coward! Rogue! must Ages yet to be
Inherit, with Life's necessary griefs,
What thou thyself perceivest base in thee?—
Factitious crimes and duties, sham beliefs,
Pride like a murderer's, pleasure like a thief's,
Man's very best besteep'd in falsity!
Inherit, with Life's necessary griefs,
What thou thyself perceivest base in thee?—
Factitious crimes and duties, sham beliefs,
Pride like a murderer's, pleasure like a thief's,
Man's very best besteep'd in falsity!
| Thought and word | |