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Ask a man what he thinks, and get from a man what he feels; G.o.d, once caught in the fact, shows you a fair pair of heels.
Body and spirit are twins: G.o.d only knows which is which; The soul squats down in the flesh, like a tinker drunk in a ditch.
One and two are not one: but one and nothing is two; Truth can hardly be false, if falsehood cannot be true.
Once the mastodon was: pterodactyls were common as c.o.c.ks; Then the mammoth was G.o.d; now is He a prize ox.
Parallels all things are: yet many of these are askew.
You are certainly I: but certainly I am not you.
Springs the rock from the plain, shoots the stream from the rock; c.o.c.ks exist for the hen: but hens exist for the c.o.c.k.
G.o.d, whom we see not, is: and G.o.d, who is not, we see; Fiddle, we know, is diddle; and diddle, we take it, is dee.
Algernon Charles Swinburne [1837-1909]
THE WILLOW-TREE After Hood
Long by the willow-trees Vainly they sought her, Wild rang the mother's screams O'er the gray water: "Where is my lovely one?
Where is my daughter?
"Rouse thee, Sir Constable-- Rouse thee and look; Fisherman, bring your net, Boatman, your hook.
Beat in the lily-beds, Dive in the brook!"
Vainly the constable Shouted and called her; Vainly the fisherman Beat the green alder; Vainly he flung the net, Never it hauled her!
Mother beside the fire Sat, her nightcap in; Father, in easy chair, Gloomily napping, When at the window-sill Came a light tapping!
And a pale countenance Looked through the cas.e.m.e.nt.
Loud beat the mother's heart, Sick with amazement, And at the vision which Came to surprise her, Shrieked in an agony-- "Lor'! it's Elizar!"
Yes, 'twas Elizabeth-- Yes, 'twas their girl; Pale was her cheek, and her Hair out of curl.
"Mother," the loving one, Blus.h.i.+ng exclaimed, "Let not your innocent Lizzy be blamed.
"Yesterday, going to Aunt Jones's to tea, Mother, dear mother, I Forgot the door-key!
And as the night was cold And the way steep, Mrs. Jones kept me to Breakfast and sleep."
Whether her Pa and Ma Fully believed her, That we shall never know, Stern they received her; And for the work of that Cruel, though short, night Sent her to bed without Tea for a fortnight.
MORAL Hey diddle diddlety, Cat and the fiddlety, Maidens of England, take caution by she!
Let love and suicide Never tempt you aside, And always remember to take the door-key.
William Makepeace Thackeray [1811-1863]
POETS AND LINNETS After Robert Browning
Where'er there's a thistle to feed a linnet And linnets are plenty, thistles rife-- Or an acorn-cup to catch dew-drops in it There's ample promise of further life.
Now, mark how we begin it.
For linnets will follow, if linnets are minded, As blows the white-feather parachute; And s.h.i.+ps will reel by the tempest blinded-- Aye, s.h.i.+ps and s.h.i.+ploads of men to boot!
How deep whole fleets you'll find hid.
And we blow the thistle-down hither and thither Forgetful of linnets, and men, and G.o.d.
The dew! for its want an oak will wither-- By the dull hoof into the dust is trod, And then who strikes the cither?
But thistles were only for donkeys intended, And that donkeys are common enough is clear, And that drop! what a vessel it might have befriended, Does it add any flavor to Glugabib's beer?
Well, there's my musing ended.
Tom Hood [1835-1874]
THE JAM-POT
The Jam-pot--tender thought!
I grabbed it--so did you.
"What wonder while we fought Together that it flew In s.h.i.+vers?" you retort.
You should have loosed your hold One moment--checked your fist.
But, as it was, too bold You grappled and you missed.
More plainly--you were sold.
"Well, neither of us shared The dainty." That your plea?
"Well, neither of us cared,"
I answer.... "Let me see.
How have your trousers fared?"
Rudyard Kipling [1865-1936]
BALLAD After William Morris
Part I The auld wife sat at her ivied door, (Butler and eggs and a pound of cheese) A thing she had frequently done before; And her spectacles lay on her ap.r.o.ned knees.
The piper he piped on the hill-top high, (b.u.t.ter and eggs and a pound of cheese) Till the cow said "I die," and the goose asked "Why?"
And the dog said nothing, but searched for fleas.
The farmer he strode through the square farmyard; (b.u.t.ter and eggs and a pound of cheese) His last brew of ale was a trifle hard-- The connection of which with the plot one sees.