12
THE POST OF HONOR.
Her ampler arms a City church extends,
He'll be more useful there, he tells his friends;
He feels distressed, he goes with many a tear,
But yearns to practise in a wider sphere,—
Which, to interpret in a carnal sense,
Means a receipt of pounds instead of pence.
Go, worldly prophet! duty fling aside,
Your heart is Mammon's, and your worship Pride;
Ready to skulk when Progress might be taught,
Go hunt the Ibis of Egyptian thought,—
Leave Heaven for Tarshish, and you can't but fail,
For every Jonah always finds his whale.
He'll be more useful there, he tells his friends;
He feels distressed, he goes with many a tear,
But yearns to practise in a wider sphere,—
Which, to interpret in a carnal sense,
Means a receipt of pounds instead of pence.
Go, worldly prophet! duty fling aside,
Your heart is Mammon's, and your worship Pride;
Ready to skulk when Progress might be taught,
Go hunt the Ibis of Egyptian thought,—
Leave Heaven for Tarshish, and you can't but fail,
For every Jonah always finds his whale.
From pride of place his favor Honor turns,
And station only from his list he spurns.
At a late conference on a Hebrew word,
A Worcester blacksmith beat an English lord;
Think you he stooped, around that brow to bind
The waiting laurel due a titled mind?
And station only from his list he spurns.
At a late conference on a Hebrew word,
A Worcester blacksmith beat an English lord;
Think you he stooped, around that brow to bind
The waiting laurel due a titled mind?
