Shapes of Clay | Page 8

decision will not budge Till both litigants are
fleeced And his palm is duly greased. Lawyers he will see who fight
Day by day and night by night; Never both upon a side, Though their
fees they still divide. Preachers he will see who teach That it is divine
to preach-- That they fan a sacred fire And are worthy of their hire. He
will see a trusted wife
(Pride of some good husband's life) Enter at a certain door And--but he
will see no more. He will see Good Templars reel-- See a prosecutor
steal, And a father beat his child. He'll perhaps see Oscar Wilde.
From the regions of the Night Coming with recovered sight-- From the
bliss of blindness free, That's what Danenhower'll see.
1882.

THE TOWN OF DAE.
_Swains and maidens, young and old, You to me this tale have told._
Where the squalid town of Dae Irks the comfortable sea, Spreading
webs to gather fish, As for wealth we set a wish, Dwelt a king by right
divine, Sprung from Adam's royal line, Town of Dae by the sea, Divers
kinds of kings there be.
Name nor fame had Picklepip: Ne'er a soldier nor a ship Bore his
banners in the sun; Naught knew he of kingly sport, And he held his
royal court Under an inverted tun. Love and roses, ages through, Bloom
where cot and trellis stand; Never yet these blossoms grew-- Never yet
was room for two-- In a cask upon the strand.
So it happened, as it ought, That his simple schemes he wrought
Through the lagging summer's day In a solitary way. So it happened, as
was best, That he took his nightly rest With no dreadful incubus This
way eyed and that way tressed, Featured thus, and thus, and thus, Lying
lead-like on a breast By cares of State enough oppressed. Yet in dreams
his fancies rude Claimed a lordly latitude. Town of Dae by the sea,
Dreamers mate above their state And waken back to their degree.
Once to cask himself away He prepared at close of day. As he tugged
with swelling throat At a most unkingly coat-- Not to get it off, but on,
For the serving sun was gone-- Passed a silk-appareled sprite Toward
her castle on the height, Seized and set the garment right. Turned the

startled Picklepip-- Splendid crimson cheek and lip! Turned again to
sneak away,
But she bade the villain stay, Bade him thank her, which he did With a
speech that slipped and slid, Sprawled and stumbled in its gait As a
dancer tries to skate. Town of Dae by the sea, In the face of silk and
lace Rags too bold should never be.
Lady Minnow cocked her head: "Mister Picklepip," she said, "Do you
ever think to wed?" Town of Dae by the sea, No fair lady ever made a
Wicked speech like that to me!
Wretched little Picklepip Said he hadn't any ship, Any flocks at his
command, Nor to feed them any land; Said he never in his life Owned a
mine to keep a wife. But the guilty stammer so That his meaning
wouldn't flow; So he thought his aim to reach By some figurative
speech: Said his Fate had been unkind Had pursued him from behind
(How the mischief could it else?)
Came upon him unaware, Caught him by the collar--there Gushed the
little lady's glee Like a gush of golden bells: "Picklepip, why, that is
me!" Town of Dae by the sea, Grammar's for great scholars--she Loved
the summer and the lea.
Stupid little Picklepip Allowed the subtle hint to slip-- Maundered on
about the ship That he did not chance to own; Told this grievance o'er
and o'er, Knowing that she knew before; Told her how he dwelt alone.
Lady Minnow, for reply, Cut him off with "So do I!" But she reddened
at the fib; Servitors had she, _ad lib._ Town of Dae by the sea, In her
youth who speaks no truth Ne'er shall young and honest be.
Witless little Picklepip Manned again his mental ship And veered her
with a sudden shift. Painted to the lady's thought How he wrestled and
he wrought
Stoutly with the swimming drift By the kindly river brought From the
mountain to the sea, Fuel for the town of Dae. Tedious tale for lady's
ear: From her castle on the height, She had watched her water-knight
Through the seasons of a year, Challenge more than met his view And
conquer better than he knew. Now she shook her pretty pate And
stamped her foot--'t was growing late: "Mister Picklepip, when I
Drifting seaward pass you by; When the waves my forehead kiss And
my tresses float above-- Dead and drowned for lack of love--