I
Walk up! walk up! This way to see the world!
Scant time allowed, must make the best of it:
Seventy years or so: your hair’ll be curled
Before that, though, with two or three sights fit
To set your eyes wide open—if you’ve wit,
That is to say, to win in the great strife
For bare existence ’gainst each brother chit—
To keep one eye upon the slide of life,
As ’twere an instant, ere death hood you with his coif.
II
Walk up! walk up! Well, you’re a stranger now;
But that won’t last. It’s excellent rare fun
Up here; but as we’ve much to see, allow
Me to begin at once. Now, there’s the Sun.
Where you come from I doubt that there was one
Or aught to match it; ’tis too far to touch,
But has its use, natheless, which is to run
From end to end of heaven, and give rays such
As may suffice to warm and light our earthly hutch.
III
It shines by day and is obscured at night—
A capital arrangement, such as I
Should have suggested if the Infinite
Had asked my counsel. If you ask me why,
’Tis clear ’twould not have suited men to lie
Abed with sun full-orbed at midnight blaze
And work their days by gaslight. We descry
Throughout these things the providential ways,
And are prepared in all to render them due praise.
IV
Walk up! walk up! There’s plenty more to see
By this said sun’s rays—simple and sublime.
The world’s a show which is, you’ll all agree,
The greatest ever advertised in rhyme,—
We’ve had the management of it some time
And can explain it fully;—and to-day
’Tis not too much to say ’tis in its prime;
Admission free—that is, if you obey
Our fatherly direction, there is nought to pay.
V
Move with the rest, and do not stop to gaze
Too long or closely. All is very good:
So the Creator said—in some amaze
At his own skill. Besides, in any mood,
Doubting or not, ’tis deemed a little rude
To look a gift-horse in the mouth. Move on:
And thank your planets—as indeed you should—
That you have got such good advice to con,
For which the world were worthy visiting, alone.