Moral Emblems
Роберт Льюис Стивенсон




Robert Louis Stevenson

Moral Emblems





NOT I, AND OTHER POEMS



Poem: NOT I

		Some like drink
		In a pint pot,
		Some like to think;
		Some not.

		Strong Dutch cheese,
		Old Kentucky rye,
		Some like these;
		Not I.

		Some like Poe,
		And others like Scott,
		Some like Mrs. Stowe;
		Some not.

		Some like to laugh,
		Some like to cry,
		Some like chaff;
		Not I.


Poem: II

		Here, perfect to a wish,
		We offer, not a dish,
		But just the platter:
		A book that’s not a book,
		A pamphlet in the look
		But not the matter.

		I own in disarray:
		As to the flowers of May
		The frosts of Winter;
		To my poetic rage,
		The smallness of the page
		And of the printer.


Poem: III

		As seamen on the seas
		With song and dance descry
		Adown the morning breeze
		An islet in the sky:
		In Araby the dry,
		As o’er the sandy plain
		The panting camels cry
		To smell the coming rain:

		So all things over earth
		A common law obey,
		And rarity and worth
		Pass, arm in arm, away;
		And even so, to-day,
		The printer and the bard,
		In pressless Davos, pray
		Their sixpenny reward.


Poem: IV

		The pamphlet here presented
		Was planned and printed by
		A printer unindented,
		A bard whom all decry.

		The author and the printer,
		With various kinds of skill,
		Concocted it in Winter
		At Davos on the Hill.

		They burned the nightly taper;
		But now the work is ripe -
		Observe the costly paper,
		Remark the perfect type!




MORAL EMBLEMS I



Poem: I

		See how the children in the print
		Bound on the book to see what’s in ‘t!
		O, like these pretty babes, may you
		Seize and apply this volume too!
		And while your eye upon the cuts
		With harmless ardour opes and shuts,
		Reader, may your immortal mind
		To their sage lessons not be blind.


Poem: II

		Reader, your soul upraise to see,
		In yon fair cut designed by me,
		The pauper by the highwayside
		Vainly soliciting from pride.
		Mark how the Beau with easy air
		Contemns the anxious rustic’s prayer,
		And, casting a disdainful eye,
		Goes gaily gallivanting by.
		He from the poor averts his head.
		He will regret it when he’s dead.


Poem: III – A PEAK IN DARIEN

		Broad-gazing on untrodden lands,
		See where adventurous Cortez stands;
		While in the heavens above his head
		The Eagle seeks its daily bread.
		How aptly fact to fact replies:
		Heroes and eagles, hills and skies.
		Ye who contemn the fatted slave
		Look on this emblem, and be brave.


Poem: IV

		See in the print how, moved by whim,
		Trumpeting Jumbo, great and grim,
		Adjusts his trunk, like a cravat,
		To noose that individual’s hat.
		The sacred Ibis in the distance
		Joys to observe his bold resistance.


Poem: V

		Mark, printed on the opposing page,
		The unfortunate effects of rage.
		A man (who might be you or me)
		Hurls another into the sea.
		Poor soul, his unreflecting act
		His future joys will much contract,
		And he will spoil his evening toddy
		By dwelling on that mangled body.




MORAL EMBLEMS II



Poem: I

		With storms a-weather, rocks a-lee,
		The dancing skiff puts forth to sea.
		The lone dissenter in the blast
		Recoils before the sight aghast.
		But she, although the heavens be black,
		Holds on upon the starboard tack,
		For why? although to-day she sink,
		Still safe she sails in printer’s ink,
		And though to-day the seamen drown,
		My cut shall hand their memory down.


Poem: II

		The careful angler chose his nook
		At morning by the lilied brook,
		And all the noon his rod he plied
		By that romantic riverside.
		Soon as the evening hours decline
		Tranquilly he’ll return to dine,
		And, breathing forth a pious wish,
		Will cram his belly full of fish.


Poem: III

		The Abbot for a walk went out,
		A wealthy cleric, very stout,
		And Robin has that Abbot stuck
		As the red hunter spears the buck.
		The djavel or the javelin
		Has, you observe, gone bravely in,
		And you may hear that weapon whack
		Bang through the middle of his back.
		Hence we may learn that Abbots should
		Never go walking in a wood.


Poem: IV

		The frozen peaks he once explored,
		But now he’s dead and by the board.
		How better far at home to have stayed
		Attended by the parlour maid,
		And warmed his knees before the fire
		Until the hour when folks retire!
		So, if you would be spared to friends,
		Do nothing but for business ends.


Poem: V

		Industrious pirate! see him sweep
		The lonely bosom of the deep,
		And daily the horizon scan
		From Hatteras or Matapan.
		Be sure, before that pirate’s old,
		He will have made a pot of gold,
		And will retire from all his labours
		And be respected by his neighbours.
		You also scan your life’s horizon
		For all that you can clap your eyes on.




A MARTIAL ELEGY FOR SOME LEAD SOLDIERS


		For certain soldiers lately dead
		Our reverent dirge shall here be said.
		Them, when their martial leader called,
		No dread preparative appalled;
		But leaden-hearted, leaden-heeled,
		I marked them steadfast in the field.
		Death grimly sided with the foe,
		And smote each leaden hero low.
		Proudly they perished one by one:
		The dread Pea-cannon’s work was done!
		O not for them the tears we shed,
		Consigned to their congenial lead;
		But while unmoved their sleep they take,
		We mourn for their dear Captain’s sake,
		For their dear Captain, who shall smart
		Both in his pocket and his heart,
		Who saw his heroes shed their gore,
		And lacked a shilling to buy more!




THE GRAVER THE PEN: OR, SCENES FROM NATURE, WITH APPROPRIATE VERSES



Poem: I – PROEM

		Unlike the common run of men,
		I wield a double power to please,
		And use the GRAVER and the PEN
		With equal aptitude and ease.

		I move with that illustrious crew,
		The ambidextrous Kings of Art;
		And every mortal thing I do
		Brings ringing money in the mart.

		Hence, in the morning hour, the mead,




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