The Open Sesame to meanest hearts,
The magic word, to which stern eyes grow soft,
And crafty faces, that the cruel marts
Have seared and scored, turn gentle—Nay, how oft
It trembles on the lip to die unppoke,
And dawning love is stifled with a joke.
Nay, brothers, look about your world to-day:
A world to you so drab, so commonplace—
The flowers still are blooming by the way,
As blossom smiles upon the sternest face.
In everv hour is born some thought of love;
In every heart is hid some treasure-trove.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
With a modified clapping and stamping of feet
The Glugs mildly cheered him, as Sym took his seat.
But some said ’twas clever, and some said ’twas grand-
More especially those who did not understand.
And some said, with frowns, tho’ the words sounded plain,
Yet it had a deep meaning they craved to explain.
But the Mayor said: Silence! He wished
That a Glug was a Glug; and in wishing to serve
This glorious Cause, which they’d asked him to lead,
They had proved they were Glugs of the noble old breed
That made Gosh what it was . . . and he’d ask the police
To remove that small boy while they heard the next piece.
Thesecond rhyme of sym
“Now come,” said the Devil, he said to
With his swart face all a-grin,
“This day, ere ever the clock strikes three,
Shall you sin your darling sin.
For I’ve wagered a crown with Beelzebub,
Down there at the Gentlemen’s Brimstone Club,
I shall tempt you once, I shall tempt you twice,
Yet thrice shall you fall ere I tempt you thrice.”
“Begone, base Devil!” I made reply—
“Begone with your fiendish grin!
How hope you to profit by such as I?
For I have no darling sin.
But many there be, and I know them well,
All foul with sinning and ripe for Hell.
And I name no names, but the whole world knows
That I am never of such as those.”
“How nowt’ said the Devil. “I’ll
spread my net,
And I vow I’ll gather you in!
By this and by that shall I win my bet,
And you shall sin the sin!
Come, fill up a bumper of good red wine,
Your heart shall sing, and your eye shall shine,
You shall know such joy as you never have known.
For the salving of men was the good vine grown.”
“Begone, red Devil!” I made reply.
“Parch shall these lips of mine,
And my tongue shall shrink, and my throat go dry,
Ere ever I taste your wine!
But greet you shall, as I know full well,
A tipsy score of my friends in Hell.
And I name no names, but the whole world wots
Most of my fellows are drunken sots.”