Short Poems

She tripped and fell against a star,
A lady we all have known;
Just what the villagers lusted for
To claim her one of their own;
Fallen but once the lower felt she,
So turned her face and died,—
With never a hounding fool to see
'Twas a star-lance in her side!

No first-class war can now be fought
Till all that can be sold is bought.
So do get going helter-skelter
And sell each citizen a shelter
Wherein, while being bombed and strafed, he
Can reek and retch and rot in perfect safety.

There 's song, and oath, and gaming deep,
Hot words, and laughter, mad carouse;
There 's naught of prayer, and little sleep;
The devil keeps the house!
“Lee cheats!” cried Jack. Lee struck him to the heart.
“That 's foul!” one muttered.—“Fool! you take your part!—

“The deed's complete! The gold is ours!
There, wash away that bloody stain!
Pray, who 'd refuse what fortune showers?
Now, lads, we lot our gain!
Must fairly share, you know, what 's fairly got?
A truly good night's work! Who says 't was not?”

O, hadst thou known what deeds were done,
When thou wast shining far away,
Wouldst thou let fall, calm-coming sun,
Thy warm and silent ray?
The good are in their graves; thou canst not cheer
Their dark, cold mansions: Sin alone is here.

And through the swift wave's yesty crown
His scared eyes shoot a fiendish light,
And fear seems wrath. He now sinks down,
Now heaves again to sight,
Then drifts away; and through the night they hear
Far off that dreadful cry.—But morn is near.

Such sound to mortal ear ne'er came
As rang far o'er the waters wide.
It shook with fear the stoutest frame:
The horse is on the tide!
As the waves leave, or lift him up, his cry
Comes lower now, and now is near and high.

Cries Lee, “We must not be betrayed;
'T is but to add another corse!
Strange words, we're told, an ass once brayed:
I 'll never trust a horse!
Out! throw him on the waves alive!—he 'll swim;
For once a horse shall ride; we all ride him.”

Now slowly up they bring the dead
From out the silent, dim-lit room.
No prayer at their quick burial said;
No friend to weep their doom.
The hungry waves have seized them one by one;
And, swallowing down their prey, go roaring on.

And then the ribald laughed. The jest,
Though old and foul, loud laughter drew;
And fouler yet came from the rest
Of that infernal crew.
Note, Heaven, their blasphemy, their broken trust!
Lust panders murder; murder panders lust!