Four Poems
Another Tongue The chimney swallows gossip:—` This sullen weather!" . "Those vulgar sparrows!" . . ."Eggs!?" . . . "The dearth of flies!"
Or sibilant love-talk? .
Well, I know not whether Than humans they are wiser, or less wise; Only that as in daydream I sit and listen, They seem to be syllabling of paradise! .
Both Barrels If one can make it difficult To grasp what one is writing 'Twill breed, perhaps, a privy Cult Who'll find it most exciting.
And if one, now and then, indulge In what is called the curious, They will not rest till they divulge What makes Philistia furious.
• Went The Mind Clocktime-Wise...
Went the mind clocktime-wise, then genius could By taking pains achieve the all it would: Six days hard labour, and the seventh found good. Life's winds list otherwise. A power remains, Only at hazard commensurate with the pains.
How Wayward How wayward one's exquisite taste may be!
One's judgement how deficient!— To idolize efficiency, Yet—not the efficient! WALTER Da LA MARE.
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