The Seven Sages
The First. My great-grandfather spoke to Edmund Burke
In Grattan’s house.
The Second. My great-grandfather shared
A pot-house bench with Oliver Goldsmith once.
The Third. My great-grandfather’s father talked of music,
Drank tar-water with the Bishop of Cloyne.
The Fourth. But mine saw Stella once.
The Fifth. Whence came our thought?
The Sixth. From four great minds that hated Whiggery.
The Fifth. Burke was a Whig.
The Sixth. Whether they knew or not,
Goldsmith and Burke, Swift and the Bishop of Cloyne
All hated Whiggery; but what is Whiggery?
A levelling, rancorous, rational sort of mind
That never looked out of the eye of a saint
Or out of drunkard’s eye.
The Seventh. All’s Whiggery now,
But we old men are massed against the world.
The First. American colonies, Ireland, France and India
Harried, and Burke’s great melody against it.
The
Roads full of beggars, cattle in the fields,
But never saw the trefoil stained with blood,
The avenging leaf those fields raised up against it.
The Fourth. The tomb of Swift wears it away.
The Third. A voice
Soft as the rustle of a reed from Cloyne
That gathers volume; now a thunder-clap.
The Sixtb. What schooling had these four?
The Seventh. They walked the roads
Mimicking what they heard, as children mimic;
They understood that wisdom comes of beggary.
Related poetry:
- Blood And The Moon I Blessed be this place, More blessed still this tower; A bloody, arrogant power Rose out of the race Uttering, mastering it, Rose like these walls from these Storm-beaten cottages – In mockery I have set A powerful emblem up, And sing it rhyme upon rhyme In mockery of a time Half dead at the […]...
- The Centenarian Great Grandfather was ninety-nine And so it was our one dread, That though his health was superfine He’d fail to make the hundred. Though he was not a rolling stone No moss he seemed to gather: A patriarch of brawn and bone Was Great Grandfather. He should have been senile and frail Instead of hale […]...
- A Pastoral Just as the sun was setting Back of the Western hills Grandfather stood by the window Eating the last of his pills. And Grandmother, by the cupboard, Knitting, heard him say: “I ought to have went to the village To fetch some more pills today.” Then Grandmother snuffled a teardrop And said. “It is jest […]...
- Two Gardens in Linndale Two brothers, Oakes and Oliver, Two gentle men as ever were, Would roam no longer, but abide In Linndale, where their fathers died, And each would be a gardener. “Now first we fence the garden through, With this for me and that for you,” Said Oliver.-“Divine!” said Oakes, “And I, while I raise artichokes, Will […]...
- Manners For a Child of 1918 My grandfather said to me As we sat on the wagon seat, “Be sure to remember to always Speak to everyone you meet.” We met a stranger on foot. My grandfather’s whip tapped his hat. “Good day, sir. Good day. A fine day.” And I said it and bowed where […]...
- ANNIVERSARY SONG [This little song describes the different members Of the party just spoken of.] WHY pacest thou, my neighbour fair, The garden all alone? If house and land thou seek’st to guard, I’d thee as mistress own. My brother sought the cellar-maid, And suffered her no rest; She gave him a refreshing draught, A kiss, too, […]...
- The Tragic Death of the Rev. A. H. Mackonochie Friends of humanity, of high and low degree, I pray ye all come listen to me; And truly I will relate to ye, The tragic fate of the Rev. Alexander Heriot Mackonochie. Who was on a visit to the Bishop of Argyle, For the good of his health, for a short while; Because for the […]...
- Spring At the first hour, it was as if one said, “Arise.” At the second hour, it was as if one said, “Go forth.” And the winter constellations that are like patient ox-eyes Sank below the white horizon at the north. At the third hour, it was as if one said, “I thirst”; At the fourth […]...
- Under The Round Tower ‘Although I’d lie lapped up in linen A deal I’d sweat and little earn If I should live as live the neighbours,’ Cried the beggar, Billy Byrne; ‘Stretch bones till the daylight come On great-grandfather’s battered tomb.’ Upon a grey old battered tombstone In Glendalough beside the stream Where the O’Byrnes and Byrnes are buried, […]...
- The Height of the Ridiculous I WROTE some lines once on a time In wondrous merry mood, And thought, as usual, men would say They were exceeding good. They were so queer, so very queer, I laughed as I would die; Albeit, in the general way, A sober man am I. I called my servant, and he came; How kind […]...
- God's Judgment on a Wicked Bishop The summer and autumn had been so wet, That in winter the corn was growing yet, ‘Twas a piteous sight to see all around The grain lie rotting on the ground. Every day the starving poor Crowded around Bishop Hatto’s door, For he had a plentiful last-year’s store, And all the neighbourhood could tell His […]...
- 'They' The Bishop tells us: ‘When the boys come back ‘They will not be the same; for they’ll have fought ‘In a just cause: they lead the last attack ‘On Anti-Christ; their comrades’ blood has bought ‘New right to breed an honourable race, ‘They have challenged Death and dared him face to face.’ ‘We’re none of […]...
- TO THE GENIUS OF HIS HOUSE Command the roof, great Genius, and from thence Into this house pour down thy influence, That through each room a golden pipe may run Of living water by thy benizon; Fulfil the larders, and with strength’ning bread Be ever-more these bins replenished. Next, like a bishop consecrate my ground, That lucky fairies here may dance […]...
- Crazy Jane And The Bishop Bring me to the blasted oak That I, midnight upon the stroke, (All find safety in the tomb.) May call down curses on his head Because of my dear Jack that’s dead. Coxcomb was the least he said: The solid man and the coxcomb. Nor was he Bishop when his ban Banished Jack the Journeyman, […]...
- Dove in the Arch Cursed! Be the father of the bride Of the blacksmith who forged the iron for the axe With which the woodsman hacked down the oak From which the bed was carved In which was conceived the great-grandfather Of the man who was driving the carriage In which your mother met your father....
- Welsh experience called out by the sun This easter saturday morning I’m sitting on a bank In pistyllgwyn (house of the sacred spring) Against a tall oak (close to a daffodil-clump) Overlooking the road Between brechfa and abergorlech On the west side of the valley Of the afon cothi Reading a poem by taliesin From the sixth […]...
- Crazy Jane On The Mountain I am tired of cursing the Bishop, (Said Crazy Jane) Nine books or nine hats Would not make him a man. I have found something worse To meditate on. A King had some beautiful cousins. But where are they gone? Battered to death in a cellar, And he stuck to his throne. Last night I […]...
- Robert Southey Burke I spent my money trying to elect you Mayor A. D. Blood. I lavished my admiration upon you, You were to my mind the almost perfect man. You devoured my personality, And the idealism of my youth, And the strength of a high-souled fealty. And all my hopes for the world, And all my beliefs […]...
- Are You Content? I call on those that call me son, Grandson, or great-grandson, On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or great-aunts, To judge what I have done. Have I, that put it into words, Spoilt what old loins have sent? Eyes spiritualised by death can judge, I cannot, but I am not content. He that in Sligo at Drumcliff […]...
- The Houses ‘Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad, In thy house or my house is half the world’s hoard; By my house and thy house hangs all the world’s fate, On thy house and my house lies half the world’s hate. For my house and thy house no help shall we find Save […]...
- The Family Monkey We bought an electric monkey, experimenting rather Recklessly with funds carefully gathered since Grandfather’s time for the purchase of a steam monkey. We had either, by this time, the choice of an electric Or gas monkey. The steam monkey is no longer being made, said the monkey Merchant. But the family always planned on a […]...
- All Roads That Lead To God Are Good All roads that lead to God are good. What matters it, your faith, or mine? Both centre at the goal divine Of love’s eternal Brotherhood. The kindly life in house or street – The life of prayer and mystic rite – The student’s search for truth and light – These paths at one great Junction […]...
- Highland Hospitality Unto his housemaid spoke the Laird: “Tonight the Bishop is our guest; The spare room must be warmed and aired: To please him we will do our best. A worthy haggis you must make, And serve a bowl of barley bree; We must be hearty for the sake Of Highland Hospitality. The feast was set, […]...
- Peekabo, I Almost See You Middle-aged life is merry, and I love to Lead it, But there comes a day when your eyes Are all right but your arm isn’t long Enough To hold the telephone book where you can read it, And your friends get jocular, so you go To the oculist, And of all your friends he is […]...
- The Old Armchair In all the pubs from Troon to Ayr Grandfather’s father would repair With Bobby Burns, a drouthy pair, The glass to clink; And oftenwhiles, when not too “fou,” They’d roar a bawdy stave or two, From midnight muk to morning dew, And drink and drink. And Grandfather, with eye aglow And proper pride, would often […]...
- The Frost of Death was on the Pane The Frost of Death was on the Pane “Secure your Flower” said he. Like Sailors fighting with a Leak We fought Mortality. Our passive Flower we held to Sea To Mountain To the Sun Yet even on his Scarlet shelf To crawl the Frost begun We pried him back Ourselves we wedged Himself and her […]...
- It seldom snowed – Part III It seldom snowed they said, and they were nearly right. In all of nine eventful Seasons crystal white on average graced the place just twice a year. A smaller Fall, an over-night preceded heavy snow. And heavy snow remained a week, Blocked drains and closed the Desert Road; but no complaints, our children Played in […]...
- Hildebrand Who was frightened by a Passing Motor, and was brought to Reason “Oh murder! What was that, Papa!” “My child, It was a Motor-Car, A most Ingenious Toy! Designed to Captivate and Charm Much rather than to rouse Alarm In any English Boy. “What would your Great Grandfather who Was Aide-de-Camp to General Brue, And […]...
- On The Murder Of Lieutenant Jose Del Castillo By The Falangist Bravo Martinez, July 12, 1936 When the Lieutenant of the Guardia de Asalto Heard the automatic go off, he turned And took the second shot just above The sternum, the third tore away The right shoulder of his uniform, The fourth perforated his cheek. As he Slid out of his comrade’s hold Toward the gray cement of the Ramblas He […]...
- Aspens All day and night, save winter, every weather, Above the inn, the smithy and the shop, The aspens at the cross-roads talk together Of rain, until their last leaves fall from the top. Out of the blacksmith’s cavern comes the ringing Of hammer, shoe and anvil; out of the inn The clink, the hum, the […]...
- 38. Epitaph on my Ever Honoured Father O YE whose cheek the tear of pity stains, Draw near with pious rev’rence, and attend! Here lie the loving husband’s dear remains, The tender father, and the gen’rous friend; The pitying heart that felt for human woe, The dauntless heart that fear’d no human pride; The friend of man-to vice alone a foe; For […]...
- The Mountain sat upon the Plain The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere The Seasons played around his knees Like Children round a sire Grandfather of the Days is He Of Dawn, the Ancestor...
- The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy […]...
- Crazy Jane Talks With The Bishop I met the Bishop on the road And much said he and I. ‘Those breasts are flat and fallen now, Those veins must soon be dry; Live in a heavenly mansion, Not in some foul sty.’ ‘Fair and foul are near of kin, And fair needs foul,’ I cried. ‘My friends are gone, but that’s […]...
- Atherton's Gambit The Master played the bishop’s pawn, For jest, while Atherton looked on; The master played this way and that, And Atherton, amazed thereat, Said “Now I have a thing in view That will enlighten one or two, And make a difference or so In what it is they do not know.” The morning stars together […]...
- Escape When foxes eat the last gold grape, And the last white antelope is killed, I shall stop fighting and escape Into a little house I’ll build. But first I’ll shrink to fairy size, With a whisper no one understands, Making blind moons of all your eyes, And muddy roads of all your hands. And you […]...
- May 8 700 francs will get you $109.91 On this muggy May afternoon Which is good to know since I just found 700 francs in my wallet While Dinah Washington was singing “My Old Flame” I was thinking of where I was with Glen when Allen Ginsberg died And if I could relax for one hour If […]...
- Manhole Covers The beauty of manhole covers what of that? Like medals struck by a great savage khan, Like Mayan calendar stones, unliftable, indecipherable, Not like the old electrum, chased and scored, Mottoed and sculptured to a turn, But notched and whelked and pocked and smashed With the great company names (Gentle Bethlehem, smiling United States). This […]...
- Air Naturally it is night. Under the overturned lute with its One string I am going my way Which has a strange sound. This way the dust, that way the dust. I listen to both sides But I keep right on. I remember the leaves sitting in judgment And then winter. I remember the rain with […]...
- THE CARDINAL LOOKS BACK I was a good father to my people, Their houses among the terraced hills Adored God every day, grape-clusters on the vines Made Christ’s blood richer in the goblet My father gave me: the chased silver had vines Round the stem and Cellini made it, ‘Let him take it to Rome’, he had said, ‘The […]...