Poems of James Russell Lowell: With biographical sketch by Nathan Haskell DoleLowell, James Russell
General
Poems of James Russell Lowell: With biographical sketch by Nathan Haskell Dole
Lowell, James Russell
American poetry
An', ez fer this Palfrey,[V] we thought wen we'd gut him in,
He'd go kindly in wutever harness we put him in;
Supposin' we _did_ know thet he wuz a peace man?
Doos he think he can be Uncle Sammle's policeman,
An' wen Sam gits tipsy an' kicks up a riot,
Lead him off to the lockup to snooze till he's quiet?
Wy, the war is a war thet true paytriots can bear, ef
It leads to the fat promised land of a tayriff;
We don't go an' fight it, nor aint to be driv on,
Nor Demmercrats nuther, thet hev wut to live on;
Ef it aint jest the thing thet's well pleasin' to God,
It makes us thought highly on elsewhere abroad;
The Rooshian black eagle looks blue in his eerie
An' shakes both his heads wen he hears o' Monteery;
In the Tower Victory sets, all of a fluster,
An' reads, with locked doors, how we won Cherry Buster;
An' old Philip Lewis--thet come an' kep' school here
Fer the mere sake o' scorin' his ryalist ruler
On the tenderest part of our kings _in futuro_--
Hides his crown underneath an old shut in his bureau,
Breaks off in his brags to a suckle o' merry kings,
How he often hed hided young native Amerrikins,
An', turnin' quite faint in the midst of his fooleries,
Sneaks down stairs to bolt the front door o' the Tooleries.[W]
[Footnote V:
There is truth yet in this of Juvenal,--
"Dat veniam corvis, vexat censura columbas."
H. W.]
[Footnote W: Jortin is willing to allow of other miracles
besides those recorded in Holy Writ, and why not of other
prophecies? It is granting too much to Satan to suppose him,
as divers of the learned have done, the inspirer of the
ancient oracles. Wiser, I esteem it, to give chance the
credit of the successful ones. What is said here of Louis
Philippe was verified in some of its minute particulars
within a few months' time. Enough to have made the fortune
of Delphi or Hammon, and no thanks to Beelzebub neither!
That of Seneca in Medea will suit here:--
"Rapida fortuna ac levis
Præcepsque regno eripuit, exsilio dedit."
Let us allow, even to richly deserved misfortune, our
commiseration, and be not over-hasty meanwhile in our
censure of the French people, left for the first time to
govern themselves, remembering that wise sentence of
Æschylus,--
Ἅπας, δὲ τραχὺς ὅστις ἂν νέον κρατῇ.
H. W.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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