"Bitter barmaid, waning fast! Let us hob-and-nob with Death. That my youth was half divine. "Wine is good for shrivell'd lips, When a blanket wraps the day, When the rotten woodland drips, And the leaf is stamp'd in clay. "Sit thee down, and have no shame, Cheek by jowl, and knee by knee : What care I for any name? What for order or degree? "Let me screw thee up a peg: Let me loose thy tongue with wine: Callest thou that thing a leg? Which is thinnest? thine or mine? "Thou shalt not be saved by works: "Fill the cup, and fill the can: Every moment dies a man, "We are men of ruin'd blood; Therefore comes it we are wise. Fish are we that love the mud, "Name and fame! to fly sublime Thro' the courts, the camps, the schools, Is to be the ball of Time, Bandied in the hands of fools. "Friendship!—to be two in one— How she mouths behind my back. Mix'd with cunning sparks of hell. "O! we two as well can look Whited thought and cleanly life As the priest, above his book Leering at his neighbour's wife. "Fill the cup, and fill the can: "Drink, and let the parties rave: For they know not what they mean. "He that roars for liberty Faster binds a tyrant's power; And the tyrant's cruel glee Forces on the freer hour. "Fill the can, and fill the cup: Are but dust that rises up, "Greet her with applausive breath, In her right a civic wreath, In her left a human head. "No, I love not what is new; Of that cap upon her brows. "Drink to lofty hopes that cool Visions of a perfect State : “Fear not thou to loose thy tongue; "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— "Fill the can, and fill the cup: "Traoping from their mouldy dens The chap-fallen circle spreads: Welcome, fellow-citizens, Hollow hearts and empty heads! "You are bones, and what of that? "Death is king, and Vivat Rex! "No, I cannot praise the fire In your eye-nor yet your lip: All the more do I admire Joints of cunning workmanship. "Lo! God's likeness-the ground-plan- "Drink to Fortune, drink to Chance, Hob-and-nob with brother Death! "Thou art mazed, the night is long, "Youthful hopes, by scores, to all, And my mockeries of the world. Fill the cup, and fill the can! Yet we will not die forlorn." 5 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 patch'd 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 quench'd 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 peal'd 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. (1853) CXXVI COME not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou would'st not save. Child, if it were thine error or thy crime Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of Time, Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie : (1853) (1853) CXXVII THE EAGLE FRAGMENT HE clasps the crag with hooked hands: The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; CXXVIII MOVE eastward, happy earth, and leave Ah, bear me with thee, lightly borne, |