Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/27

They from the line of duty swerve,
To nothing noble they ennerve,
No warm reception they deserve,
Except—the fire!

I hear this question asked of you,—
But, why publicity eschew?
Why keep "unknown to public view?"
I'll answer give.
I court not fame, it is secure,
Though many products may be poor,
I know the worthy will endure,
The good will live.

Obscurity I did not choose
Lest, peradventure, "Scotch Reviews
Me scribbler dub, denounce my muse,"
With pen severe.
I'm unassuming, you're aware;
I need no "patron's gen'rous care,"
Nor wish before the world to glare,
Nor critics fear.

'Tis wise this policy of mine,
Details of self to self confine,
For pilgrims would flock to my shrine,
And I've no crave
Eor idolising reverence;
When 'tis a place of no pretence,
I, inconvenience and expense,
Admirers save.

Since all details are hid from view
(I dare not tell them e'en to you)
I'd ask that you my works look through,
And you will learn
All of me you need wish to find,
My genius, character, and mind,
My genuine love for all mankind,
You will discern.

I fancy when your work is o'er,
'Twill be a sample, but, no more;
You'll find that my gigantic store
Would volumes make:
My fertile mind 'twill serve to show,
The public more of me will know,
And may on me more care bestow,
For my works' sake.