friendly know they have much wit, And if it come that any man shall hang, This neck will go unchoked, that nose unslit, For, be things wry and crooked and to guess, Those twisters are at home in twistiness. 

 We know now what their plottings were about, And how they planned, and what they meant to win; 'Twas God, not us, that took their tangles out, For no sleek eel inside an oily skin Could slip with more address from harm than they Can slip from punishment and get away. 

 When trouble came it was their plan to get Our friends into the boat they meant to leave, And there was some one left to pay their debt, And they were free again to lie and thieve: So they could put the feet of the man they'd rob Into the boots of the one that did the job. 

 If burnt child does truly dread the flame, If wounded soldier shrinks again to see A steel point sloping to him, let the same Experience teach our chiefs that they may be Crafty in meeting craft, and may beware Of brewer's bees and buzzers everywhere. 

 Unto the Mind which pardons sin I pray, I pray to Him who did permit our woe But halted our destruction, that to-day Kindness and love and trust and inward glow Of vision light our hearts with light divine, So that we know our way until the end of time. 

 

 

 THE GERALDINE'S CLOAK 

 I will not heed the message which you bring: That lovely lady gave her cloak to us, And who'd believe she'd give away a thing And ask it back again?—'tis fabulous! 

 My parting from her gave me cause to grieve, For she, that I was poor, had misty eyes; If some Archangel blew it I'd believe The message which you bring, not otherwise. 

 I do not say this just to make a joke, Nor would I rob her, but, 'tis verity, So long as I could swagger in a cloak I never cared how bad my luck could be. 

 That lady, all perfection, knows the sting Of poverty was thrust deep into me: I don't believe she'd do this kind of thing, Or treat a poet less than daintily. 

 

 

 Prev. P 11/16 next