  ON THE MISGOVERNMENT OF THE STATETHE MEAN HUSBANDThin cloth of dolichos supplies the shoes, In which some have to brave the frost and cold. A bride, when poor, her tender hands must use, Her dress to make, and the sharp needle hold. This man is wealthy, yet he makes his bride Collars and waistbands for his robes provide. Conscious of wealth, he moves with easy mien; Politely on the left he takes his place; The ivory pin is at his girdle seen:— His dress and gait show gentlemanly grace. Why do we brand him in our satire here? 'Tis this—his niggard soul provokes the sneer. A YOUNG SOLDIER ON SERVICETo the top of that tree-clad hill I go, And towards my father I gaze, Till with my mind's eye his form I espy, And my mind's ear hears how he says:— "Alas for my son on service abroad! May he careful be and come back to me! While he is away, how I grieve!" To the top of that barren hill I climb, And towards my mother I gaze, Till with my mind's eye her form I espy, And my mind's ear hears how she says:— "Alas for my child on service abroad! He never in sleep shuts an eye. May he careful be, and come back to me! In the wild may his body not lie!" Up the lofty ridge I, toiling, ascend, And towards my brother I gaze, Till with my mind's eye his form I espy, And my mind's ear hears how he says:— "Alas! my young brother, serving abroad, All day with his comrades must roam. May he careful be, and come back to me, And die not away from his home." |
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