Classic Poem

T HERE'S a word of five letters, oft used to express
The pleasure which mortals combine
In a flatterer's tongue, in a woman's caress,
In a wager at cards, in a hazard at chess,
Or a glass overflowing with wine.

Omit its initial, it then is allied
To injustice, oppression, and care;
Drop one letter more, and it hangs by your side,
As true as a servant, as dear as a bride;
Wheresoever you go, it is there.

Transpose its three last and it glitters above,
Or quietly grazes the heath;
Transpose it throughout, it enlivens the grove,
Or in battle's warm strife it commands you to move
'Mid carnage, destruction, and death.

Take three of its letters, and such is its fame,
A Turk will eschew it as evil;
Transpose its first four and it then will proclaim
The high vault of heav'n, and a part of the name
Which Milton bestow'd on the Devil.