Not understood? Take me hence! Take me yonder!
Take me away to the land of my rest--
There where the Ganges and other gees wander,
And uncles and antelopes act for the best,
And all things are mixed and run into each other
In a violet twilight of virtues and sins,
With the church-spires below you and no one to show you
Where the curate leaves off and the pew-rent begins!
In the black night through the rank grass the snakes peer--
The cobs and the cobras are partial to grass--
And a boy wanders out with a knowledge of Shakespeare
That's not often found in a boy of his class,
And a girl wanders out without any knowledge,
And a bird wanders out, and a cow wanders out,
Likewise one wether, and they wander together--
There's a good deal of wandering lying about.
But it's all for the best; I've been told by my friends, Sir,
That in verses I'd written the meaning was slight;
I've tried with no meaning--to make 'em amends, Sir--
And find that this kind's still more easy to write.
The title has nothing to do with the verses,
But think of the millions--the laborers who
In busy employment find deepest enjoyment,
And yet, like my title, have nothing to do!
_Barry Pain_.
Pages:
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154