The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1877-05-31

New Poem by oliver Wendell Holmes.

And Jove's high palace closed its portal.
The fallen gods, before they fled,
Sold out their frippery to mortal.
To whom ~ you ask. ask of you.
The answer hardly needs suggestion;
OF course it was the Wandering jew
How coHld you put me such question?
A purple robe, q little worn,
The Thunderer deigned himself to offer;
The bearded wanderer laughed in scorn--
" You know he always was scoffer."
"Vife shillins tits monstrous price;
Say two and six, and further talk shun."
"Rake it," cried Joye /" we can't be nice
'Twould fetch twice that at Leonard's auction.v
The ice was broken; up they came,
ALI sharp for bargains, god and goddess
Each ready with the price to name
For robe or head-dress, scarf or bodice.
First Juno, out of temper too
Her queenly forehead somewhat cloudy:
Then Pallas in her stockings blue,
Imposing, but little dowdy.
The scowling queen of heaven uprolled
Before the Jew a threadbare turban:
"Three shillings." One Twill suit some old
Terrific feminine suburban"
But as for Pa]as-how to tell
In seemly phrase a fact so shocking!
She pointed to her azure stocking.
And if the honest truth were told, GeeI
Its heel confessed the need of darning 1t.
Gods !" low-bred Vulcan cried, behold
There that's what comes of too much farming !!
Pale PrOserpine came groping round,
Her pupils dreadfully dilated p ". |
With too much living underground I3 &
Aresidence quite oyerrated;.
This kerchief's what you want, know
DON'T cheat poor Venus OF her cestus---
You'll find it handy when you go
To-you know where; it's pure asbestus."
Then Phmbus, of the silver bow
And Hebe, dimpled as a baby, - t#
And Dian with the breast of snow,
Chaser and chased-and caught, it may be.
One took the culver from her back
One held the cap he spent the night in,
And one q bit Of bejc-0-brdc,
Such as the gods themselves delight in.
Then Mars the foe Of human kind,
Strobe up and showed his suit of armor;
So none at last was left behind ts
Save Venus, the celestial charmer. .. b..
Poor Venus what had she to sell F? Vs..
For all she looked so fresh and jaunty,
Her wardrobe, as l blush to teA
Already seemed but quite too scanty.
Her gems were sold, her sandals gone
She always would be rash and Tightly
Her winter garments all in pawn, -5 ''.-
Alas &or charming Aphrodite!
The lady of thousand loves,
The darling of the old religion, ..-.
Had only left of all the doves
That drew her car one fan-tailed pigeon.
How oft upon her fnger-tips
He perched, afraid of Cupid's arrow,
Or kissed her on the rosebud lips, .l@ M
Like Roman Lesbia's loving sparrow!
My bird, want your train" she cried:
Come don't let's have fuss about it.
Ill make 1t beautys pet and pride,
And you'll be better Oft without it.
So vulgar! Have you noticed, pray
An earthly belle or dashing bride walk,
And how her founces track her way, 3d.
Like Shiny serpents on the sidewalk?
ga lovers heart it quickly cools
In mine it kindles up enough rage
70 wiring their necks. How can such fools
Ask men to vote for woman suffrage?"
The goddess spoke, and gently stripped
Her bird of every caudal feather;
A strand of gold-bright hair she clipped,
And bound the glossy plumes together.
And 10, the fan for beauty's hand
The lovely queen of beauty made it:
The price she paid was hard to stand,
But Venus smiled the Hebrew paid it.
JOye, Juno, Venus, where are you?
Mars, Mercury, Phoebus, Neptune, Saturn?
But DER the world the Wandering Jew
Has borne the fans celestial pattern.
So everywhere we find the fan
In lonely isles of the Pacific,
In farthest China and Japan
Wherever suns are sudOrifiC.
Nay, cen the oily Esquimaux
In summer courts its cooling breezes-
In tact iR every cline It's so.
No matter if it fries or freezes. ..
And since from Aphrodite's dove
The pa&ern of the fan was given,
NO wonder that it breathes of love .. .
And watts the perfumed gales of heaven.
Before this new Pandora's gift
In slavery Womans tyrant kept her.
But now he kneels her glove to lift
The fan is mightier than the scepter
The tap 1t gives how arch and sly! -
The breath it wakes how fresh and grateful!
Behind its shield how soft the sigh III.
The whispered tale of shame how fateful!
Its empire shadows every throne .
And every shore that man is tost on:
1t rules the lords of every zone
Nay, cen the bluest blood of Boston
But every one that swings tonight, '-'
Of fairest shape, from farthest region,
May trace his pedigree Alright
10 AphrOdite's Tan-tailed pigeon.
! Atd2ltlc Monthly for June.