  I. So, friend, your shop was all your house! Its front, astonishing the street, Invited view from man and mouse To what diversity of treat Behind its glass—the single sheet! II. What gimcracks, genuine Japanese: Gape-jaw and goggle-eye, the frog; Dragons, owls, monkeys, beetles, geese; Some crush-nosed human-hearted dog: Queer names, too, such a catalogue! III. I thought “And he who owns the wealth “Which blocks the window’s vastitude, “—Ah, could I peep at him by stealth “Behind his ware, pass shop, intrude “On house itself, what scenes were viewed! IV. “If wide and showy thus the shop, “What must the habitation prove? “The true house with no name a-top— “The mansion, distant one remove, “Once get him off his traffic groove! “Pictures he likes, or books perhaps; “And as for buying most and best, “Commend me to these city chaps. “Or else he’s social, takes his rest “On Sundays, with a Lord for guest. VI. “Some suburb-palace, parked about “And gated grandly, built last year: “The four-mile walk to keep off gout; “Or big seat sold by bankrupt peer: “But then he takes the rail, that’s clear. VII. “Or, stop! I wager, taste selects “Some out o’ the way, some all-unknown “Retreat: the neighbourhood suspects “Little that he who rambles lone “Makes Rothschild tremble on his throne!” VIII. Nowise! Nor Mayfair residence Fit to receive and entertain,— Nor Hampstead villa’s kind defence From noise and crowd, from dust and drain,— Nor country-box was soul’s domain! Nowise! At back of all that spread Of merchandize, woe’s me, I find A hole i’ the wall where, heels by head, The owner couched, his ware behind, —In cupboard suited to his mind. X. For, why? He saw no use of life But, while he drove a roaring trade, To chuckle “Customers are rife!” To chafe “So much hard cash outlaid “Yet zero in my profits made! XI. “This novelty costs pains, but—takes? “Cumbers my counter! Stock no more! “This article, no such great shakes, “Fizzes like wild fire? Underscore “The cheap thing—thousands to the fore!” XII. ’Twas lodging best to live most nigh (Cramp, coffinlike as crib might be) Receipt of Custom; ear and eye Wanted no outworld: “Hear and see “The bustle in the shop!” quoth he. My fancy of a merchant-prince Was different. Through his wares we groped Our darkling way to—not to mince The matter—no black den where moped The master if we interloped! XIV. Shop was shop only: household-stuff? What did he want with comforts there? “Walls, ceiling, floor, stay blank and rough, “So goods on sale show rich and rare! “Sell and scud home,” be shop’s affair! XV. What might he deal in? Gems, suppose! Since somehow business must be done At cost of trouble,—see, he throws You choice of jewels, everyone Good, better, best, star, moon and sun! XVI. Which lies within your power of purse? This ruby that would tip aright Solomon’s sceptre? Oh, your nurse Wants simply coral, the delight Of teething baby,—stuff to bite! Howe’er your choice fell, straight you took Your purchase, prompt your money rang On counter,—scarce the man forsook His study of the “Times,” just swang Till-ward his hand that stopped the clang,— XVIII. Then off made buyer with a prize, Then seller to his “Times” returned, And so did day wear, wear, till eyes Brightened apace, for rest was earned: He locked door long ere candle burned. XIX. And whither went he? Ask himself, Not me! To change of scene, I think. Once sold the ware and pursed the pelf, Chaffer was scarce his meat and drink, Nor all his music—money-chink. XX. Because a man has shop to mind In time and place, since flesh must live, Needs spirit lack all life behind, All stray thoughts, fancies fugitive, All loves except what trade can give? I want to know a butcher paints, A baker rhymes for his pursuit, Candlestick-maker much acquaints His soul with song, or, haply mute, Blows out his brains upon the flute! XXII. But—shop each day and all day long! Friend, your good angel slept, your star Suffered eclipse, fate did you wrong! From where these sorts of treasures are, There should our hearts be—Christ, how far! There ought to be far more in a man than can be put into a front window. This man had all sorts of “curios” in his shop window, but there was nothing rich or rare in his soul; and so there was room for all of him in a den which would not have held the hundredth part of his wares. The contemptible manner of the man’s life is strikingly brought out by the various suppositions (stanzas 5, 6, 7) so different from the poor reality (8-9). All he cared for was business, which made him “chuckle” on the one hand or “chafe” on the other, according as times were good or bad (10). Even in his business it was not the real excellence of his wares he cared for, only their saleability (11). A merchant prince is a very different person (13-19). The last three stanzas give the lesson in a style partly humorous, but passing in the end to an impressive solemnity. In connection with this should be read the companion piece, “House,” to which reference is made in the Introduction. |
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