Heart, thou must learn to do without—
That is the riches of the poor,
Their liberty is to endure;
Wrap thou thine old cloak thee about,
And carol loud and carol stout;
Let thy rags fly, nor wish them fewer;
Thou too must learn to do without,
Must earn the riches of the poor!
Why should'st thou only wear no clout?
Thou only walk in love-robes pure?
Why should thy step alone be sure?
Thou only free of fortune's flout?
Nay, nay! but learn to go without,
And so be humbly, richly poor.
SONG.
Lighter and sweeter
Let your song be;
And for sorrow—oh cheat her
With melody!
SMOKE.
Lord, I have laid my heart upon thy altar
But cannot get the wood to burn;
It hardly flares ere it begins to falter
And to the dark return.
Old sap, or night-fallen dew, makes damp the fuel;
In vain my breath would flame provoke;
Yet see—at every poor attempt's renewal
To thee ascends the smoke!
'Tis all I have—smoke, failure, foiled endeavour,
Coldness and doubt and palsied lack:
Such as I have I send thee!—perfect Giver,
Send thou thy lightning back.
TO A CERTAIN CRITIC.
Such guests as you, sir, were not in my mind
When I my homely dish with care designed;
'Twas certain humble souls I would have fed
Who do not turn from wholesome milk and bread:
You came, slow-trotting on the narrow way,
O'erturned the food, and trod it in the clay;
Then low with discoid nostrils sniffing curt,
Cried, "Sorry cook! why, what a mess of dirt!"