MY GUESTS.
Cold Wisdom was a guest of mine;
But Pleasure came one day,
And she, with almost fiendish glee
Drove Wisdom far away.
I tried to call chill Wisdom back;
Alas! it was too late.
She never could an entrance gain
With Pleasure at my gate.
And so with recklessness I gave
Myself to Pleasure’s call.
She led me such a merry chase,
I soon seemed past recall.
Then Pleasure seemed to tire of me,
And left me worn, distraught.
She left me for a fresher field,
And never gave one thought
To me, nor to my previous life;
She’d other things to do;
For she had other lives to wreck,
Had work in pastures new.
For Pleasure has no conscience e’er.
She cares not who may fall
So long as she doth have her way,
Her victims to enthrall.
One need not treat her with disdain,
Nor drive her far away.
She often is a welcome guest,
If Wisdom too doth stay.
Companions they may even be.
Though ’tis not always wise
For Pleasure to take foremost rank,
Though decked in royal guise.