MARGERY DAW.
"See, saw! Margery Daw
Sold her bed, and lay upon straw;
Sold her straw, and lay upon dirt;
Was n't she a good-for-naught?"
O Margery Daw! Mistress Margery Daw!
Not yours the sole lapse that the world ever
saw!
In precisely such willful gradation
I fear me religion and morals and law
Go down, step by step, to the dirt through
the straw,
In the church and the mart and the nation.
A yielding of that, and a dropping of this,—
("With straw fresh and plenty, pray what
is amiss?
The bed may be wider and cleaner;" )
Ah, that's as you make it, and shake it,
you 'll find;
And with slumber forgetful, and luxury
blind,
What you rest in grows meaner and
meaner.
"In righteousness walking," the Scripture
verse goes,—
"They rest in their beds," and find blessed
repose;
And the beautiful contrary diction
Is neither Isaiah's mistake, nor a word
At random declared, to be scoffingly heard,
But a truth in the freedom of fiction.
O Margery Daw! Mistress Margery Daw!
It shall always be gospel, what always was
law:
Some bed-making none may dispense
with,—
In dust of the earth, or in heart of the
heaven,—
And to soul of mankind shall no Sabbath be
given
Save that it lies down and contents with.