I.
Swallowed up in gulfs of tho't—
Eye-glass fixed—on—who knows what?
We but know he sees us not.
Chance upon him, here and there—
Base-ball park—Industrial Fair—
Broadway—Long Branch—anywhere!
Even at the races,—yet
With his eye-glass tranced and set
On some dream-land minaret.
At the beach, the where, perchance—
Tenderest of eyes may glance
On the fitness of his pants.
Vain! all admiration—vain!
His mouth, o'er and o'er again
Absently absorbs his cane.
Vain, as well, all tribute paid
To his morning coat, inlaid
With crossbars of every shade.
He is oblivious, tho
We played checkers to and fro
On his back—he would not know.
II.
So removed—illustrious—
Peace! kiss hands, and leave him thus
He hath never need of us!
Come away! Enough! Let be!
Purest praise, to such as he,
Were as basest obloquy.
Vex no more that mind of his,
We, to him, are but as phizz
Unto pop that knows it is.
Haply, even as we prate
Of him HERE—in astral state—
Or jackastral—he, elate,
Brouses 'round, with sportive hops
In far fields of sphery crops,
Nibbling stars like clover-tops.
He, occult and psychic, may
Now be solving why to-day
Is not midnight.—But away!
Cease vain queries! Let us go!
Leave him all unfathomed.—Lo,
He can hear his whiskers grow.