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"Name and fame! to fly sublime
Through the courts, the camps, the schools,
Is to be the ball of Time,
Bandied by the hands of fools.
"Friendship !—to be two in one—
Let the canting liar pack! Well I know, when I am gone,
How she mouths behind my back.
"Virtue !—to be good and just—
Every heart, when sifted well, Is a clot of warmer dust,
Mixed with cunning sparks of hell,
"O! we two as well can look
As the priest, above his book
"Fill the cup, and fill the can:
Every moment dies a man,
"Drink, and let the parties rave:
Rising, falling, like a wave.
For they know not what they mean.
"He that roars for liberty
Faster binds a tyrant's power;
And the tyrant's cruel glee
"Fill the can, and fill the cup:
All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up,
And is lightly laid again.
"Greet her with applausive breath,
Freedom, gayly doth she tread; In her right a civic wreath,
In her left a human head.
"No, I love not what is new;
She is of an ancient house: And I think we know the hue
Of that cap upon her brows.
"Let her go! her thirst she slakes
Then her sweetest meal she makes
"Drink to lofty hopes that cool—
Visions of a perfect State: Drink we, last, the public fool,
Frantic love and frantic hate.
"Chant me now some wicked stave,
Till thy drooping courage rise, And the glow-worm of the grave
Glimmer in thy rheumy eyes.
"Fear not thou to loose thy tongue;
Set thy hoary fancies free; What is loathsome to the young
Savors well to thee and me.
"Change, reverting to the years, When thy nerves could understand
What there is in loving tears,
And the warmth of hand in hand.
"Tell me tales of thy first love— April hopes, the fools of chance;
Till the graves begin to move,
"Fill the can, and fill the cup:
Are but dust that rises up,
"Trooping from their mouldy dens
The chap-fallen circle spreads-: •Welcome, fellow-citizens,
Hollow hearts and empty heads!
"You are bones, and what of that V
Every face, however full, Padded round with flesh and fat,
Is but modelled on a skull.
"Death is king, and Vivat Rex!
Tread a measure on the stones, Madam—if I know your sex,
From the fashion of your bones.
41 No, I cannot praise the fire
All the more do I admire
Joints of cunning workmanship.
"Lo! God's likeness—the ground-planNeither modelled, glazed, or framed:
Buss me, thou rough sketch of man,
"Drink to Fortune, drink to Chance,
Drink to heavy Ignorance!
Hob-and-nob with brother Death!
"Thou art mazed, the night is long,
What! I am not all as wrong
"Youthful hopes, by scores, to all,
Unto me my maudlin gall,
And my mockeries of the world.
"Fill the cup, and fill the can!
Mingle madness, mingle scorn!
Yet we will not die forlorn."
The voice grew faint: there came a further change;
Once more uprose the mystic mountain-range:
Below were men and horses pierced with worms,
And slowly quickening into lower forms;
By shards and scurf of salt, and scum of dross,
Old plash of rains, and refuse patched with moss.
Then some one spake: "Behold! it was a crime
Of sense avenged by sense that wore with time."
Another said: "The crime of sense became
The crime of malice, and is equal blame."
And one: "He had not wholly quenched his
power; A little grain of conscience made him sour." At last I heard a voice upon the slope Cry to the summit, "Is there any hope?" To which an answer pealed from that high land, But in a tongue no man could understand: And on the glimmering limit far withdrawn God made himself an awful rose of dawn.
Sure never yet was Antelope
Could skip so lightly by.
Will hit you in the eye.
How lightly whirls the skipping-rope!
How fairy-like you fly!
I hate that silly sigh.
Or tell me how to die.
And hang yourself thereby.
MOVE EASTWARD, HAPPY EARTH, AND
Move eastward, happy earth, and leave
From fringes of the faded eve,
Till over thy dark shoulder glow
That watch me from the glen below.
Ah, bear me with thee, smoothly borne,
And move me to my marriage-morn,
BREAK, BREAK, BREAK,
Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, oh Sea!
The thoughts that arise in me.
O well for, the fisherman's boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O well for the sailor lad,