MOTLEY’S KINGDOM

By Brobert Rowning.

There once was a time, long ago,
When the sages were rulers, you know,

When men from all parts of the globe
Would seek them, their wisdom to probe,

And ask their opinion (no counsel’s
Like that which your lawyer in town sells.

But sapient and noble advice
That now you can get at no price).

But the sages got terribly pestered,
For those they advised for the best, erred

In doing their best, then in rages
Laid all of the blame on the sages;

While now and then one (you ’twas rude’ll
Allow) said each sage was a noodle!

Meanwhile, no less, morning and night
From all parts of the earth, left and right.

From north, and from south, east, and west
For advice—gratis—all the world prest.

Said the sages, “We’re too much admired!
Let’s retire.” So the sages retired,

And then to extremes rushing hotly,
Took cap and bells, bauble, and motley,

In that disguise guided the throng,
Not by showing the right but the wrong,

And found to their wonderment great
’Tis more easy to keep people straight

By lashing for errors they make
Then showing the right road to take.

And this, don’t you see, is the way
The whole world is governed to-day.

Men have long ceased the sages to pester
But bow to the rule of the jester.

Well—Ridentem quid dicere verum
Vetat?—If the people will hear ’um!

So, there, now my story is done—
And the moral! Why, that you see’s Fun.

Fun, 1866.

“What’s ’A-cuba to him, or he to ’A-cuba?”

—Shakespeare.

“Mark’d you her eye?”

—Sheridan.

“Alarms! Excursions! Parties fighting.”

—Shakespeare.

“Methinks I scent the morning hair!”

—Shakespeare.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

—Shakespeare.

“I waited for the train at Coventry,
I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge.”

—Tennyson.

“My custom always of an afternoon.”

—Shakespeare.

“Say what can Chloe want? She wants a heart.”

—Pope.

“Oh! too convincing—dangerous dear—
In woman’s eye, th’ unanswerable tear.”

—Byron.