In northern zones the ranging bear
Protects himself with fat and hair.
Where snow is deep, and ice is stark,
And half the year is cold and dark,
He still survives a clime like that
By growing fur, by growing fat.
These traits, O Bear, which thou transmittest,
Prove the survival of the fittest!
To polar regions, waste and wan,
Comes the encroaching race of man;
A puny, feeble little lubber,
He had no fur, he had no blubber.
The scornful bear sat down at ease
To see the stranger starve and freeze;
But, lo! the stranger slew the bear,
And ate his fat, and wore his hair!
These deeds, O Man, which thou committest,
Prove the survival of the fittest!
In modern times the millionaire
Protects himself as did the bear.
Where Poverty and Hunger are,
He counts his bullion by the car.
Where thousands suffer, still he thrives,
And after death his will survives.
The wealth, O Crœsus, thou transmittest
Proves the survival of the fittest!
But, lo! some people, odd and funny,
Some men without a cent of money,
The simple common Human Race,
Chose to improve their dwelling-place.
They had no use for millionaires;
They calmly said the world was theirs;
They were so wise, so strong, so many—
The millionaire? There wasn’t any!
These deeds, O Man, which thou committest,
Prove the survival of the fittest!
DIVISION OF PROPERTY.
Some sailors were starving at sea
On a raft where they happened to be,
When one of the crew
Who was hidden from view
Was found to be feasting most free.
Then they cursed him in language profane,
Because there on the pitiless main
While the others did starve,
He could ladle and carve,
Eating food which they could not obtain.
“But,” said he, “’tis my own little store!
To feed all of you would take more!
If I shared, ’twould be found
That it would not go round;
And you all would starve on as before!
“It would only prolong your distress
To distribute this one little mess!
The supply is so small
I had best eat it all,
For me it will comfort and bless!”
This reasoning sounded most fair,
But the men had large appetites there,
And while he explained
They ate all that remained,
Forgetting to leave out his share!
CHRISTIAN VIRTUES.
Oh, dear!
The Christian virtues will disappear!
Nowhere on land or sea
Will be room for charity!
Nowhere, in field or city,
A person to help or pity!
Better for them, no doubt,
Not to need helping out
Of their old miry ditch.
But, alas for us, the rich!
For we shall lose, you see,
Our boasted charity!—
Lose all the pride and joy
Of giving the poor employ,
And money, and food, and love
(And making stock thereof!).
Our Christian virtues are gone,
With nothing to practise on!
It don’t hurt them a bit,
For they can’t practise it;
But it’s our great joy and pride—
What virtue have we beside?
We believe, as sure as we live,
That it is more blessed to give
Than to want, and waste, and grieve,
And occasionally receive!
And here are the people pressing
To rob us of our pet blessing!
No chance to endow or bedizen
A hospital, school, or prison,
And leave our own proud name
To Gratitude and Fame!
No chance to do one good deed,
To give what we do not need,
To leave what we cannot use
To those whom we deign to choose!
When none want broken meat,
How shall our cake be sweet?
When none want flannels and coals,
How shall we save our souls?
Oh, dear! Oh, dear!
The Christian virtues will disappear!
The poor have their virtues rude,—
Meekness and gratitude,
Endurance, and respect
For us, the world’s elect;
Economy, self-denial,
Patience in every trial,
Self-sacrifice, self-restraint,—
Virtues enough for a saint!
Virtues enough to bear
All this life’s sorrow and care!
Virtues by which to rise
To a front seat in the skies!
How can they turn from this
To common earthly bliss,—
Mere clothes, and food, and drink,
And leisure to read and think,
And art, and beauty, and ease,—
There is no crown for these!
True, if their gratitude
Were not for fire and food,
They might still learn to bless
The Lord for their happiness!
And, instead of respect for wealth,
Might learn from beauty, and health,
And freedom in power and pelf,
Each man to respect himself!
And, instead of scraping and saving,
Might learn from using and having
That man’s life should be spent
In a grand development!
But this is petty and small;
These are not virtues at all;
They do not look as they should;
They don’t do us any good!
Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!
The Christian virtues will disappear!
WHAT’S THAT?
I met a little person on my land,
A-fishing in the waters of my stream;
He seemed a man, yet could not understand
Things that to most men very simple seem.
“Get off!” said I; “this land is mine, my friend!
Get out!” said I; “this brook belongs to me!
I own the land, and you must make an end
Of fishing here so free.
“I own this place, the land and water too!
You have no right to be here, that is flat!
Get off it! That is all I ask of you!—”
“Own it?” said he; “what’s that?”
“What’s that?” said I, “why, that is common sense!
I own the water and the fishing right;
I own the land from here to yonder fence;
Get off, my friend, or fight!”
He looked at the clear stream so neatly kept;
He looked at teeming vine and laden tree,
And wealthy fields of grain that stirred and slept;
“I see!” he cried, “I see!
“You mean you cut the wood and plowed the field,
From your hard labor all this beauty grew,
To you is due the richness of the yield;
You have some claim, ’tis true.”
“Not so,” said I, with manner very cool,
And tossed my purse into the air and caught it;
“Do I look like a laborer, you fool?
It’s mine because I bought it!”
Again he looked as if I talked in Greek,
Again he scratched his head and twirled his hat,
Before he mustered wit enough to speak.
“Bought it?” said he, “what’s that?”
And then he said again, “I see! I see!
You mean that some men toiled with plows and hoes,
And while those worked for you, you toiled with glee
At other work for those.”
“Not so!” said I, getting a little hot,
Thinking the man a fool as well as funny;
“I’m not a working-man, you idiot;
I bought it with my money!”
And still that creature stared and dropped his jaw,
Till I could have destroyed him where he sat.
“Money,” said I, “money, and moneyed law!”
“Money?” said he, “what’s that?”
AN ECONOMIST.
The serene savage sitting in his tree
Saw empires rise and fall,
And moralized on their uncertainty.
(He never rose at all!)
He was full fat from god-sent droves of prey;
He was full calm from satisfied desire;
He was full wise in that he chose to stay
Free from ambition’s fire.
“See,” quoth the savage, “how they toil and strive
To make things better,—vain and idle wish!
Here is good store of what keeps man alive,
Of fruit, and flesh, and fish.
“Poor discontented wretches, fed on air,
Seeking to change the normal lot of man,
To lure him from this natural strife and care,
With vague Utopian plan!
“Here’s wealth and joy—why seek for any change?
Why labor for a more elaborate life?
As if God could not his own world arrange
Without our fretful strife!
“Those who complain of savagery as low
Are merely proven lazy, and too weak
To live by skilful hunt and deadly blow;
It is their needs that speak.
“Complain of warfare! Cry that peace is sweet!
Complain of hunting! Prate of toil and trade!
It only proves that they cannot compete
In the free life we’ve made.”
Another empire reeled into its grave;
The savage sat serenely as before,
As calm and wise, as cunning and as brave—
Never an atom more.
CHARITY.
Came two young children to their mother’s shelf
(One was quite little, and the other big),
And each in freedom calmly helped himself.
(One was a pig.)
The food was free and plenty for them both,
But one was rather dull and very small;
So the big smarter brother, nothing loath,
He took it all.
At which the little fellow raised a yell
Which tired the other’s more æsthetic ears;
He gave him here a crust, and there a shell
To stop his tears.
He gave with pride, in manner calm and bland,
Finding the other’s hunger a delight;
He gave with piety—his full left hand
Hid from his right.
He gave and gave—O blessed Charity!
How sweet and beautiful a thing it is!
How fine to see that big boy giving free
What is not his!
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
- Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.
- Anachronistic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.