FOR HAVING CALLED Louis P HILIPPE AN H ONEST M AN .

Yes: I was wrong, and very wrong,
In the eulogium of my lay, —
So I indite another song,
To clear my conscience while I may.
A year ago I thought him wise, —
I thought him virtuous of intent;
But time has purified my eyes,
And I repent me — I repent!

I thought and call'd him honest man ,
Unsway'd by dirty love of pelf:

Reduc'd by fate and air-built schemes,
From prospects fine and golden dreams,
With native confidence tho' poor,
Young Merit knock'd at Fortune 's door.
 'Twas after dinner, and my lady
Was at her toilet getting ready,
To go old Niggles's rout,
By nine or ten or thereabout.
For a night' pleasures, it is said
Begin when half the town' in bed;
And as to work the vulgar rise
But few of these have clos'd their eyes;
Day is their night, and night their day,
So order'd by the laws of play;
And quality would sooner break,

How do the flashes of light on the mirrorlike rivulet sparkle!
Seems the golden marge with its own ardour aglow.
But the ripples are carried adown the glittering highway
Forcing each other along, feather, and hasten away: —
Such is the fugitive spark which man denominates honour:
Not he shines, but the scene, where he may happen to be.

Blessings on England!—but why should I bless her?
  I that she tutor'd from bad into worse;—
I that could never, since Reason possess'd me,
 Balance my faults by the weight of my purse.
She's a very good land for the man who has money,
 But Misery gives her, as I do, a curse.

What else should I give her? One day, in my boyhood,
 I pluck'd from a branch a fair apple, that swung
Tempting and ripe o'er the wall of an orchard,
 But, ere the first morsel delighted my tongue,
Was hurried to gaol, where some older offenders

Twofold is the road by which a man is exalted;
If in the one he fail, open the other appears.
This to patience appeals, and that to vigorous action,
Happy the man whose fate grants him a portion of each.

Farewell, England! blessings on thee,
Stern and niggard as thou art;
Harshly, Mother, thou hast used me,
And my bread thou hast refused me,
But 'tis agony to part.
'T will pass over; for I would not
Bear again what I could tell; —
Half the ills that I have suffer'd:
Though I loved thee twice as well.
So — my blessings on thee, England,
And a long and last farewell!

Other regions will provide me

Between two friends in days of old
A bitter strife began,
And Father Spade with Brother Trade
Disputed man to man.
" You're vain, undutiful, and proud,"
Said Spade, with flashing eyes.
" You earn your thousands while I starve;
You mock my children's cries.
You ride in state with lordly looks;
You dwell in bower and hall;
You speak of me reproachfully,
And prosper on my fall.
So from this hour, in shine or shower,
We'll learn to live apart.
I ruled the earth ere you were born —
I cast you from my heart."

F EBRUARY 28, 1892

Esteem'd, admir'd, belov'd, — farewell!
Alas! what need hast thou of peace?
Our bitterest winter tolls the knell,
And tolls, and tolls, and will not cease.

It tolls and tolls with iron tongue
For empty lives and hearts unbless'd,
And tolls for thee, whose heart was young,
Whose life was stored with hope and rest.

Thy meditative quaint replies,
Cast out like arrows on the air,
The humour in thy dark grey eyes,
The wisdom in thy silver hair, —

Who lags for dread of daily work,
And his appointed task would shirk,
Commits a folly and a crime;
A soulless slave — a paltry knave —
A clog upon the wheels of Time.
With work to do, and store of health,
The man's unworthy to be free,
Who will not give, that he may live,
His daily toil for daily fee.

No! Let us work! We only ask
Reward proportioned to our task: —
We have no quarrel with the great;
No feud with rank — with mill or bank —
No envy of a lord's estate.
If we can earn sufficient store

Just because thou readest in Nature what thou hast written,
Just because thine eye all her phenomena marks,
Reckoning on the bonds which man upon Nature imposes,
Does thy mind presume infinite Nature to know?
So the Astronomer's art lays out the chart of the heavens
Better his way to steer through inaccessible space;
Suns in a focus he brings though by infinity parted,
Mates the distant swan with the redoubtable bull.
But can he comprehend the spheres' mysterious orbit
Merely because on a globe planets in order appear?