POEMS OF OCCASION
To make us hang upon his lips and say—
The Admirable Crichton of our day,
Whose quill and lute and voice are weapons shear
That quite outvie that gallant's swift rapier,—
Whose dulcet English, from its font that wells,
This night, the Scotsman's dozen tongues excels!
Long may he live, to wear the cloistral gown,
Or from his Little Rivers bring to town—
From every haunt where purling waters flow—
The mystic flower that only votaries know!
Wouldst view what Nature's portraiture is like?
The Dame herself hath sat to this Van Dyke.
Lotos Club, December 23, 1904.
TO DR. WALDSTEIN
ON HIS PROPOSAL TO EXCAVATE HERCULANEUM[1]
Yes, Doctor, surely we recall
How at the Louvre you chanced to score so,—
'T was there you found against some wall
The head that matched an Elgin torso!
We know you born with that sixth sense,
The presage of discoveries mighty,
Nor like—unwitting or prepense—
To land a made-up Aphrodite.
Speed then, I pray, lest in the lurch
You leave a wistful graybeard mortal;
Begin apace your classic search
Beyond each Herculaneum portal!
Let others northward seek the stem
That swings this planetary apple,
Whilst you, to win a diadem
More worth, with Pluto's self must grapple.
- ↑ Copyrighted by the Bibliophile Society and reprinted by permission.
214
