The Portland daily press., 1880-09-25

Get up and take chair. The public's dull,
| 1t cries Go to, and reckons lack o'wit
With little cause. Cigno .fedet, sweet swan,
One ravens croak 1.-THE air is reason enough
That all the Air grow hoarse with ravens caws;
So public chatter, chin and chin a-wag,
Takes off the praisewe'l say, well earned enough
or you and me. Twas young fool, forsooth
Say they, to sit at feet Of an old fool
And no FOOLS like an old fool but young.
So both VIC wear the motley in their minds
Get up, young man!
ALGERNoN.
Reverence of high things sought,
Not lightly left when found, and of the men
Made memorable and mighty of the muse
These are for youth; and thou, no more youth,
Art crowned of all mems praises; and To- a leaf
A little leaf oflaurel lightly laid,
Lighter than lilies lie ON limpid lakes,
Is overheavy for the honored head
If given of mine hands, hated.
ROBERT.
You mistake.
have no personal dislike to you;
But time flies fast end vet mcseens he lass;
Why slowfoot, could take you by the forelock
But for delaying you) said, time flies.
(Have at you now, my lopg-haired tediumy
Beg pardon, my young friend Crook up your joints
Sir Pliable my 81 inal column, bend
To this man civilly) Algsrnon, of your grace,
must adjourn our interesting session,
have man awaits me round the corner,
And have sworn by this and that to meet
Him at eleven sharp, and must 60.
ALGERNoN
Thou shalt pass from mine eyes as light
As song from mine ears;
will walk in the borders of night
And the region of tears;
Thou wilt leave me uuholpen, and lost in desc
late place
Made lonely for lack of the light and delight of thy
face.
As Iphigenialwas carried
In clouds light as lawn,
When the knife from the maiden was parried,
To fall on the fawn,-
Who is this that rends Robert away from my sight
without sound?
What man. and what corner is this that he waiteth
around?
am covered with grief for garment
And woe for acloak;
Thou hast given my heart up to torment
My neck to the yoke;
Yea what torment or yoke shall be sharper or
heavier than this,
The gladness of greeting and madness of meeting to
miss
Have help Of the earth, or again
Of the strength of the sea-
Can cry to the clouds, or complain
To the four winds set free?
Shall hunt thee with lightning for spears and with
hou,,aso---
Will the earth stay the course of thy feet or the
sea set thee bounds?
As the snow that is sifted and taken
By blasts FROM the North,
So /, of thee suddenly shaken,
From thee must fare forth;
Thou hast scattered my spirit and breath of NV
body abroad
As the fields of the frost when tie waters of winter
are thawed.
Thou hast set on mine head sorrows crown,
To remember good things;
Thou hast stricken the strength of me down
And hast broken my wings;
Thou hast quenched the quick fame of delight into
ashes for fire,
And thy face and thy feet turn away from mine eyes
that desire!
ROBERT.
must go now, young man.
ALGERNoN.
Yea thou shalt go,
NOT without witness and unheralded;
For 10, lift my footstool from thy feet
And go before thee, procession of one;
Yea thou dost lack the silver cry of flutes,
And reeds made tuneful of remembered sighs
Of winds blown through the waste places Of the
world
Where the marsh meets the water; not for thee
Are innocent slain things, and trodden grapes,
And grain in golden plenteous gratitude
Poured ont for thv oivcn and srnifta,, braas
And high strong trumpets, and the hands of men
Struck in thy praise-thou hast not these, but me-
Me only and the footstool in mine hands
To go before thee as thou goest down stairs.
ROBERT.
In this procession you're the chanting crowd
/, the reluctant sacrifice, sheep,
Bleat and stretch neck to knife, wool pulled past
eyes,
More meek and sheepish even than mutton's won't
ALGERNoN.
Lo my foot falleth on the ultimate stair,
Lowest and last-yet once before leave,
One last gift grant me for my great loves sake.
ROBERT.
Fear gifts from Greeks-they give ungodiy gifts.
ALGERNoN.
Fair is all fruitage given of thine hands,
Yea, were it apples from the sterile marge
OF the dead sea made bright with bitter brine.
ROBERT.
Your speech Is Dead-Sea-apple-sauce, saucy boy
ALGERNoN.
Yea, ashen apples seethed in scalding tears,
A bubbling bitterness of dusty death
Made sweet with honey of thy remembered speech.
ROBERT.
A spoon are you, to stir tn unhallowed mess.
ALGERNoN.
And 10 gift ungranted and 10 prayer
IJo1f board md holt santa v;, Jou, he ind
The gods give ear thus-art thou as a god?
ROBERT.
What is your wish? I'll serve you as can.
ALGERNoN.
little moment, little moment more
For space of pleasure and for my delight.
Five minutes more, my master, at thy feet.
ROBERT.
have said. Turn back. Cool heels my man
round cornerD
ALGERNoN.
While we went down these stairs, i was as ono
Descending down into the dead mems place,
With darkness in mine eyes, and in mine hands
Not any strength, and no more might of feet,
And mine heart hollow for woe; yea was the world
More blind and bitter than winters midmost night.
Thou hast recalled me and set back my day;
And life burns in my veins, fire new-lit,
And light Of new day is in mine eyes;
And every stair grows golden as cloud
When the sun climbs above his eastern sea.
lift me and rise out of gloom into gladness
From the foot of the stairs to the top Of the fight
My feet forsake now the way unto madness,
Again return to delight
From dreams of despair awaken
That wandered in woe and forsaken;
As a ghost come back, as a shade
Arisen from the grave newly made;
o glory and gladness undying
Thy feet and my footstool shall meet;
My mouth on the name of thee crying
fall at thy feet!
ROBERT.
dor what old sin of mine am judged thus
Numbering Kings English-broken laws o. verse?
No -'tis the lie now spoken in self-defence.)
Five minutes said you--five times sixty seconds
Cpher's cipher for nought is nought,
And five times six are thirty-learn your tables,
Sng-song of infant schools-three hundred seconds
Live till tomorrow, longest day will end.
ALGERNoS.
Lo at thy feet again set my foo.stool
And am fallen upon it as man
Fallen before the altar of strange gods.
ROBERT.