Classic Poem

Let no mortals dare to be
Happier in their lives than we:
Thus the jealous gods decree.

This decree was never heard,
Never by their lips averred,
Yet on high stands registered.

I have read it, and I fear
All the gods above, my Dear,
All must envy us two here.

Let us, then, propitiate
These proud satraps of sole Fate;
Our hearts' wealth is all too great.

Say, what rich and cherished thing
Can I to the river fling
As a solemn offering?

O beloved Meerschaum Pipe,
Whose pink bloom would soon be ripe,
Must thou be the chosen type?

Cloud-compeller! Foam o' the Sea,
Whence rose Venus fair and free
On some poet's reverie!

In the sumptuous silken-lined
Case where thou hast lain enshrined
Thou must now a coffin find!

And, to drag thee surely down,
Lo! I tie my last half-crown:
We shall have to walk through town.

Penny toll is paid, and thus
All the bridge is free to us;
But no cab, nor even a 'bus!

Far I fling thee through the gloom;
Sink into thy watery tomb,
O thou consecrate to Doom!

May no sharp police, while they track
Spoils thrown after some great " crack,"
Ever, ever bring thee back!

No mudlarkers, who explore
Every ebb the filthy floor,
Bring thee to the day once more!

No sleek cook — I spare the wish;
Dead dogs, cats, and suchlike fish,
Surely are not yet a dish? ...

Gods! the dearest, as I wis,
Of my treasures offered is;
Pardon us our heavenly bliss!

What Voice murmurs full of spleen?
Not that Pipe, but — Ssss! how mean
All the gods have ever been!