XIV In public Her face turneth to thee, and pleasant Her smile when ye meet. It is ill. The cold rocks of El-Gidar smile thus on the waves at their feet. In public Her face is averted, with anger She nameth thy name. It is well. Was there ever a loser content with the loss of the game? XV If She have spoken a word, remember thy lips are sealed, And the Brand of the Dog is upon him by whom is the secret revealed. If She have written a letter, delay not an instant but burn it. Tear it in pieces, O Fool, and the wind to her mate shall return it! If there be trouble to Herward, and a lie of the blackest can clear, Lie, while thy lips can move or a man is alive to hear. XVI My Son, if a maiden deny thee and scufflingly bid thee give o'er, Yet lip meets with lip at the lastward. Get out! She has been there before. They are pecked on the ear and the chin and the nose who are lacking in lore. XVII If we fall in the race, though we win, the hoof-slide is scarred on the course. Though Allah and Earth pardon Sin, remaineth for ever Remorse. XVIII "By all I am misunderstood!" if the Matron shall say, or the Maid: "Alas! I do not understand," my son, be thou nowise afraid. In vain in the sight of the Bird is the net of the Fowler displayed. XIX My son, if I, Hafiz, thy father, take hold of thy knees in my pain, Demanding thy name on stamped paper, one day or one hour-refrain. Are the links of thy fetters so light that thou cravest another man's chain? THE MOON OF OTHER DAYS BENEATH the deep verandah's shade, I sit me down and watch-alas! She rises through the haze. Sainted Diana! can that be The Moon of Other Days! Ah! shade of little Kitty Smith, And Hammersmith was Heaven beneath 'Tamarisk. But Wandle's stream is Sutlej now, And Putney's evening haze In place of Putney's golden gorse Glare down, old Hecate, through the dust, And bid the pie-dog yell, Draw from the drain its typhoid-germ, From each bazaar its smell; Yea, suck the fever from the tank And sap my strength therewith: Thank Heaven, you show a smiling face THE FALL OF JOCK GILLESPIE THIS fell when dinner-time was done "Twixt the first an' the second rubThat oor mon Jock cam' hame again To his rooms ahint the Club. An' syne he laughed, an' syne he sang, Then up and spake an elder mon, That held the Spade its Ace "God save the lad! Whence comes the licht "That wimples on his face?" An' Jock he sniggered, an' Jock he smiled, "There's whusky brewed in Galashiels "An' L. L. L. forbye; "But never liquor lit the lowe "That keeks fra' oot your eye. "There's a thrid o' hair on your dress-coat breast, "Aboon the heart a wee?" "Oh! that is fra' the lang-haired Skye "That slobbers ower me." "Oh! lang-haired Skyes are lovin' beasts, "An' terrier dogs are fair, "But never yet was terrier born, "Wi' ell-lang gowden hair! "There's a smirch o' pouther on your breast, "Below the left lappel?" "Oh! that is fra' my auld cigar, "Whenas the stump-end fell." "Mon Jock, ye smoke the Trichi coarse, "For ye are short o' cash, "An' best Havanas couldna leave "Sae white an' pure an ash. "This nicht ye stopped a story braid, "An' stopped it wi' a curse. "Last nicht ye told that tale yoursel'— "An' capped it wi' a worse! "Oh! we're no fou! Oh! we're no fou! "But plainly we can ken "Ye're fallin', fallin' fra the band "O' cantie single men!" An' it fell when sirris-shaws were sere, WHAT THE PEOPLE SAID Queen Victoria's Jubilee. JUNE 21ST, 1887 BY THE well, where the bullocks go Silent and blind and slow By the field, where the young corn dies In the face of the sultry skies, They have heard, as the dull Earth hears The voice of the wind of an hour, The sound of the Great Queen's voice:"My God hath given me years, "Hath granted dominion and power: "And I bid you, O Land, rejoice." And the Ploughman settles the share "And the Mlech,1 in the fated year, 1The foreigner. |