Malachi
The last of the prophets — old Malachi —
Way up on the great coping-stone
Of the loftiest tower of Paradise,
Sat pensively musing alone
As, weary of walking the golden streets,
And inspecting the palaces fair,
In my dream I ascended the battlements,
And discovered him sitting there.
I knew him at once, and I hastily climbed
Over many a huge parapet,
Till I reached him at last, and sat by his side
On the top of the tall minaret.
He seemed down in the mouth — dejected, in fact,
And I marvelled profoundly thereat;
But, laconic as ever, he gave me Good-day,
And told me to take off my hat.
He'd a halo round his head that wouldn't come off,
Or he'd shed it, at least so he said;
He remarked that he'd worn it for two thousand years,
And 'twas getting as heavy as lead.
" In fact, " said he, " stranger, I'm awfully tired
Of — well, nearly everything here;
The things that once seemed to me wondrously fine
Are becoming unbearably drear.
" I am tired of the sunlight that never grows dim,
And I long for a shower of rain;
A regular flood would be welcomed by me
Could I see but a rainbow again!
I am tired of metallic, glittering streets,
And I long for an old country road;
I long for the mountains, the valleys, the fields —
To ride with the hay on the load!
" I long for the trees, for the flowers, and ferns,
And I long to hear birds sing again;
I am tired of the sound of hosanna and harp —
Stringed instruments give me a pain!
The jaspery sea is quite beautiful, yes,
But of late it is rather a bore;
I am perfectly crazy to plunge in the surf,
And to smell the salt water once more!
" I am tired of the summer — I wish it would snow!
I'd like to see hoar-frost and ice!
I'd like to build forts, and slide down the hills —
Oh, wouldn't that be mighty nice!
I'd like to be out in a howling old gale —
To buffet and battle the storm!
I wouldn't mind getting completely chilled through
For the bliss of again getting warm!
" And, say! — never breathe it! — I once knew a girl
When I sojourned in Palestine there,
Whose shoulders were guiltless of feathers or wings,
Who wore sandals, and " did up " her hair! "
Right here I awoke, and I think it was time,
Tho' I lost what the seer meant to say.
Last night I retired, somewhat sick of this world,
But I'm feeling more cheerful to-day!
Way up on the great coping-stone
Of the loftiest tower of Paradise,
Sat pensively musing alone
As, weary of walking the golden streets,
And inspecting the palaces fair,
In my dream I ascended the battlements,
And discovered him sitting there.
I knew him at once, and I hastily climbed
Over many a huge parapet,
Till I reached him at last, and sat by his side
On the top of the tall minaret.
He seemed down in the mouth — dejected, in fact,
And I marvelled profoundly thereat;
But, laconic as ever, he gave me Good-day,
And told me to take off my hat.
He'd a halo round his head that wouldn't come off,
Or he'd shed it, at least so he said;
He remarked that he'd worn it for two thousand years,
And 'twas getting as heavy as lead.
" In fact, " said he, " stranger, I'm awfully tired
Of — well, nearly everything here;
The things that once seemed to me wondrously fine
Are becoming unbearably drear.
" I am tired of the sunlight that never grows dim,
And I long for a shower of rain;
A regular flood would be welcomed by me
Could I see but a rainbow again!
I am tired of metallic, glittering streets,
And I long for an old country road;
I long for the mountains, the valleys, the fields —
To ride with the hay on the load!
" I long for the trees, for the flowers, and ferns,
And I long to hear birds sing again;
I am tired of the sound of hosanna and harp —
Stringed instruments give me a pain!
The jaspery sea is quite beautiful, yes,
But of late it is rather a bore;
I am perfectly crazy to plunge in the surf,
And to smell the salt water once more!
" I am tired of the summer — I wish it would snow!
I'd like to see hoar-frost and ice!
I'd like to build forts, and slide down the hills —
Oh, wouldn't that be mighty nice!
I'd like to be out in a howling old gale —
To buffet and battle the storm!
I wouldn't mind getting completely chilled through
For the bliss of again getting warm!
" And, say! — never breathe it! — I once knew a girl
When I sojourned in Palestine there,
Whose shoulders were guiltless of feathers or wings,
Who wore sandals, and " did up " her hair! "
Right here I awoke, and I think it was time,
Tho' I lost what the seer meant to say.
Last night I retired, somewhat sick of this world,
But I'm feeling more cheerful to-day!
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