Short Poems

The years have linings just as goblets do:
The old year is the lining of the new, —
Filled with the wine of precious memories,
The golden was doth line the silver is .

Victor in Roman purple, saint and knight,
In peace he passes to eternal peace:
Triumph so proud, knew not Rome's ancient might;
She knew not to make poor men's sorrow cease:
For thousands, ere he won the holiest home,
Earth was made homelier by this Prince of Rome.

We are deceived by the shadow, we see not the substance of things.
For the hills are less solid than thought; and deeds are but vapours; and flesh
Is a mist thrown off and resumed by the soul, as a world by a god.
Back of the transient appearance dwells in ineffable calm
The utter reality, ultimate truth; this seems and that is.

Ope! ye everlasting doors, unto my soul's demand,
I would go forward, fare beyond these dusty boulevards,
Faint lights and fair allure me all insistently
And I must stand within the halls resplendent, of my dreams.

Then all is done and said, we know,
Despite the skeptic sneer,
That " many men of many " creeds
Hold mankind's progress dear.
They are a phalanx fighting hard
To bring the day more near,
When each will see in other men —
A brother-man to cheer.

Thou hadst four Teeth, good Elia , heretofore,
But one Cough spit out two, and one two more:
Now thou mayst Cough all day, and safely too;
There's nothing left for the third Cough to do.

Call for what wine you please, which likes you best;
Some you must drink your Venison to digest.
Why rise you, Sir, so soon: you need not doubt,
He that I do invite sits my meal out;
Most true: But yet your Servants are gay men,
I'l but step home, and drink, and come agen.

Brag not a Golden Rain O Jove ; we see
Cupid descends in Showers as well as thee.

Who can hide fire? If't be uncover'd, Light,
If cover'd, Smoake betraies it to the sight:
Love is that fire, which still some sign affords,
If hid, the are Sighs; If open, they are Words.

Mother, wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear;
To-day's the saddest, gladdest day in all the glad, sad year.
For some one who is dear to us is soon to go away:
" Beyond the Alps, " et cet'ra: Daughter graduates today.