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Tao Te Ching by Stephen Mitchell

Walt Whitman - The Death and Burial of McDonald Clarke

The Death and Burial of McDonald Clarke.

A PARODY.

Not a sigh was heard, not a tear was shed,
As away to the "tombs" he was hurried,
No mother or friend held his dying head,
Or wept when the poet was buried.

They buried him lonely; no friend stood near,
(The scoffs of the multitude spurning,)
To weep o'er the poet's sacred bier;
No bosom with anguish was burning.

No polish'd coffin enclosed his breast,
Nor in purple or linen they wound him,
As a stranger he died; he went to his rest
With cold charity's shroud wrapt 'round him.

Few and cold were the prayers they said,
Cold and dry was the cheek of sadness,
Not a tear of grief baptised his head,
Nor of sympathy pardon'd his madness.

None thought, as they stood by his lowly bed,
Of the griefs and pains that craz'd him;
None thought of the sorrow that turn'd his head,
Of the vileness of those who prais'd him.

Lightly they speak of his anguish and woe,
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him,
But whatever he was that was evil below,
Unkindness and cruelty made him.

Ye hypocrites! stain not his grave with a tear,
Nor blast the fresh planted willow
That weeps o'er his grave; for while he was here,
Ye refused him a crumb and a pillow.

Darkly and sadly his spirit has fled,
But his name will long linger in story;
He needs not a stone to hallow his bed;
He's in Heaven, encircled with glory.

W.

The Poetry Foundation

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The Lie
BY SIR WALTER RALEGH

Go, soul, the body’s guest,
Upon a thankless errand;
Fear not to touch the best;
The truth shall be thy warrant.
Go, since I needs must die,
And give the world the lie.

Say to the court, it glows
And shines like rotten wood;
Say to the church, it shows
What’s good, and doth no good.
If church and court reply,
Then give them both the lie.

Tell potentates, they live
Acting by others’ action;
Not loved unless they give,
Not strong but by a faction.
If potentates reply,
Give potentates the lie.

Tell men of high condition,
That manage the estate,
Their purpose is ambition,
Their practice only hate.
And if they once reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell them that brave it most,
They beg for more by spending,
Who, in their greatest cost,
Seek nothing but commending.
And if they make reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell zeal it wants devotion;
Tell love it is but lust;
Tell time it is but motion;
Tell flesh it is but dust.
And wish them not reply,
For thou must give the lie.

Tell age it daily wasteth;
Tell honor how it alters;
Tell beauty how she blasteth;
Tell favor how it falters.
And as they shall reply,
Give every one the lie.

Tell wit how much it wrangles
In tickle points of niceness;
Tell wisdom she entangles
Herself in overwiseness.
And when they do reply,
Straight give them both the lie.

Tell physic of her boldness;
Tell skill it is pretension;
Tell charity of coldness;
Tell law it is contention.
And as they do reply,
So give them still the lie.

Tell fortune of her blindness;
Tell nature of decay;
Tell friendship of unkindness;
Tell justice of delay.
And if they will reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell arts they have no soundness,
But vary by esteeming;
Tell schools they want profoundness,
And stand too much on seeming.
If arts and schools reply,
Give arts and schools the lie.

Tell faith it’s fled the city;
Tell how the country erreth;
Tell manhood shakes off pity;
Tell virtue least preferreth.
And if they do reply,
Spare not to give the lie.

So when thou hast, as I
Commanded thee, done blabbing—
Although to give the lie
Deserves no less than stabbing—
Stab at thee he that will,
No stab the soul can kill.