Page:Once a Week Jul - Dec 1859.pdf/13

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This King was in his counting-house at morning,

Counting, discounting, where stocks fall and rise;

But now, at afternoon, his ledger scorning,

To his own vine and his own fig-tree flies.

Proud Princess Poll brings him the rich Havannah

To soothe his royal soul with pleasant reek.

Pet Princess Meg discrowns him. Princess Anna

Brings him iced drink, and straws, and.

We shall have hints for him, at which he’ll grumble,

“What should an author know about such things?”

But reading on, his Majesty, more humble,

May learn—more wise than several other Kings.

When he returns to business and its rudeness,

And in Old Jewry meets a smirking Greek,

He’ll wink, and say (quite proud too of his shrewdness),

“That is the rogue they sketched in .”

Nor to the rich alone, or those who’re striving

Upward for riches, is our sermon read;

To other thousands nobly, humbly, hiving

Their little stores for winter it is said.

For easier than they dream is the transition

From the dull parlour, or the garret bleak,

To fields and flowers—a beatific vision

Devoutly to be pray’d for.