CONTENTS.
THE ONENESS OF THE PHILOSOPHER WITH NATURE [1]
OF THE DANGERS ATTENDING ALTRUISM ON THE HIGH SEAS [45]
ON THE DISASTROUS SPREAD OF ÆSTHETICISM IN ALL CLASSES [71]
ENVOY [100]
THE ONENESS
OF THE PHILOSOPHER
WITH NATURE.
I love to see the little stars
All dancing to one tune;
I think quite highly of the Sun,
And kindly of the Moon.
The million forests of the Earth
Come trooping in to tea.
The great Niagara waterfall
Is never shy with me.
I am the tiger's confidant,
And never mention names:
The lion drops the formal "Sir,"
And lets me call him James.
Into my ear the blushing Whale
Stammers his love. I know
Why the Rhinoceros is sad,
—Ah, child! 'twas long ago.
I am akin to all the Earth
By many a tribal sign:
The aged Pig will often wear
That sad, sweet smile of mine.
My niece, the Barnacle, has got
My piercing eyes of black;
The Elephant has got my nose,
I do not want it back.
I know the strange tale of the Slug;
The Early Sin—the Fall—
The Sleep—the Vision—and the Vow—
The Quest—the Crown—the Call.
And I have loved the Octopus,
Since we were boys together.
I love the Vulture and the Shark:
I even love the weather.
I love to bask in sunny fields,
And when that hope is vain,
I go and bask in Baker Street,
All in the pouring rain.
Come snow! where fly, by some strange law,
Hard snowballs—without noise—
Through streets untenanted, except
By good unconscious boys.
Come fog! exultant mystery—
Where, in strange darkness rolled,
The end of my own nose becomes
A lovely legend old.
Come snow, and hail, and thunderbolts,
Sleet, fire, and general fuss;
Come to my arms, come all at once—
Oh photograph me thus!
OF THE DANGERS
ATTENDING ALTRUISM ON
THE HIGH SEAS.
Observe these Pirates bold and gay,
That sail a gory sea:
Notice their bright expression:—
The handsome one is me.
We plundered ships and harbours,
We spoiled the Spanish main;
But Nemesis watched over us,
For it began to rain.
Oh all well-meaning folk take heed!
Our Captain's fate was sore;
A more well-meaning Pirate,
Had never dripped with gore.
The rain was pouring long and loud,
The sea was drear and dim;
A little fish was floating there:
Our Captain pitied him.
"How sad," he said, and dropped a tear
Splash on the cabin roof,
"That we are dry, while he is there
Without a waterproof.
"We'll get him up on board at once;
For Science teaches me,
He will be wet if he remains
Much longer in the sea."
They fished him out; the First Mate wept,
And came with rugs and ale:
The Boatswain brought him one golosh,
And fixed it on his tail.
But yet he never loved the ship;
Against the mast he'd lean;
If spoken to, he coughed and smiled,
And blushed a pallid green.
Though plied with hardbake, beef and beer,
He showed no wish to sup:
The neatest riddles they could ask,
He always gave them up.
They seized him and court-martialled him,
In some excess of spleen,
For lack of social sympathy,
(Victoria xii. 18).
They gathered every evidence
That might remove a doubt:
They wrote a postcard in his name,
And partly scratched it out.
Till, when his guilt was clear as day,
With all formality
They doomed the traitor to be drowned,
And threw him in the sea.
The flashing sunset, as he sank,
Made every scale a gem;
And, turning with a graceful bow,
He kissed his fin to them.
