Then a smile that was sardonic
Beamed about his brow Byronic,
And he said, “This is masonic,
But I think you want a tonic—
Try the famous (something) wine.”
And he further said with unction
That I need have no compunction
In obeying his injunction,
’Twould renew each vital function,
And just suit a case like mine.
I have drunk and I’m a giant
Quite refreshed and grown defiant;
All my limbs are free and pliant,
And now neither May nor Bryant
Can supply a match to me.
Now my pen again grows graphic,
And my verse is strictly sapphic,
And my tricycle in traffic
I can ride with smile seraphic,
From all nervous tremors free.
I can laugh at Punch and Judy,
And enjoy a book from Mudie;
I am spick and span and dudey,
And I freely spend my scudi,
And I feel that I could fly.
I’ve a bearing that is regal,
All my acts are strictly legal,
And I’ll wager that an eagle,
Though he’d taken Mother Seigel,
Couldn’t show as clear an eye.
So in market-place or forum,
If you’re dull, my cockalorum,
Never heed the censor morum,
But just brew yourself a jorum,
In a beaker or a cup,
Of this stimulating liquor,
Which, when life begins to flicker,
And your soul grows slowly sicker,
And you feel a bucket-kicker,
Is a patent pick-me-up.
Ad Cor Meum.
HEART, my heart, that faintly flutters
And sinks within my coward breast
At every sound a demon utters—
The demon of a wild unrest—
What poison is it in you lurking
That taints the rich red stream of life,
And leaves your trembling owner shirking
The storm and stress of daily strife?
The skies are black as Night’s dark daughters,
The Haven’s far, and fierce the sea;
Ill-omened birds above the waters
Fly low and shriek with evil glee.
O, sinking heart, to hope a traitor,
If through the storm’s the peace we prize,
Bid me sail on—the risk is greater
For him who here at anchor lies.
Beat, heart, again with brave endeavour;
Beat, heart, with faith in God’s right hand,
Stretched out to those who ask it ever
To lead them to the Promised Land.
Mine eyes to earth no more inclining,
I watch the storm that clears the sky;
Who’d see the sun in splendour shining
Must boldly fix his gaze on high.