life.

p. 138

p. 139

He was a man of thews and goodly frame Made swart in battle. Under Indian suns Our foes had often there been taught to know That weight of arm, resistless when he closed Charging upon them with his sword and eye. But when his father died, he left the East For England; here to rule his own estate, And reign among the county gentlemen, Who duly came with pride to own him chief. He had the kingly look of born command, An eagle set of eye and curve of neck; A cutting insight backed by solid sense; Vast knowledge, and the facile use of it, To break obstruction, or direct the force Of will resolved to compass every end. Withal a broad and generous natured man p. 140Who ever kindly turned the doubtful scale Against himself: no tenant ever mourned The day when the new master came to rule; Nor were old village gossips heard lament The good times fled with their departed lord. Culture went hand in hand with strength in him: Broad-versed was he in science; rock and soil, Plant, shell, bird, beast, to complex form of man, With something of the stars. Historic works He mostly read; and ofttimes dug for trace Of steps long past in archæology. He loved the singers of our native land Who take our souls up to the worth of life; And those deep thinkers whose conclusions show The secret principles that work the world. He prized laborious Hallam; but declared Carlyle half mad; “A coil of restive thoughts, That touch on nothing sound or practical, Told in outrageous jargon, cumbersome As any Laplander’s costume!” Which I p. 141In ruffled pride would always straight oppose, “Sound or unsound, his word is daylight truth, That breeding heroes once was England’s boast, And now we brag of making millionaires. Your ‘practical’ means shortest cut to wealth: But far too frequently purse robs the heart; One growing heavy drains the other dry. His style, poetically pregnant, oft By note of admiration merely, hints More than crammed Pro Con of your favourite’s page.” At this he shouts a scornful roaring laugh, The table shaking, and the vessels chinked As fell his weighty arm: with massive gaze In hurly-burly sort he bantered me: “Young bubble-dreamer, plotting stanza rhymes, What can you know of laws: what know of plans Which bound these varied interests of ours, Through crossing currents, fixed for certain ends, To frame this state we call society, The full outcome of immemorial time? p. 142Know, here on earth wealth must not be despised, For we are as we are. While men subsist By interchanging goods and service, gold Will be the grease that smooths the whole machine. I grant a few, the greatest, live content To give 

 Prev. P 36/51 next