Original Poetry. The Sceptic's Musings.

Thames Star, Volume XI, Issue 3685, 16 October 1880, Page 1

Original Poetry. The Sceptic's Musings.

"Man is bom unto trouble as the sparks fly up* ward."—Emphaz. I "Man'thatisbornof a woman is of few days and full of trouble."—Job. i "All man's days are sorrows."—Solomok. "Better the day of death than the day of one's birth."-lßn>. " Man was made to mourn."—Brass. "If tbou see'st the oppression of the poor, and the violent perverting of judgment and justice in a pro* vince, marrel not at the matter."— Solohos. Great God! lam amazed that thou canst look Upon thie hollow world of ours so tamely, With eyes to Bee the crime and poverty, With ears to hear the wail of misery, And heart to feel it all. lam amazed That thou should'st sit so quietly by, nor <•» stretch Thine arm to right the ills we're groaning in. Behold the man with head encased in gold And precious stones, who liveth on the blood, The sweat, the groans, wrung from the star?* ing poor; Who sits enthroned, receiving homage from The great, the grand, the noble, and the fair; Whose word is law, who speaks to be obeyed. Thou'dst think that he is blest; but no, they say ■ " .- " Uneasy lies the head that wears a orown." In pity then relieve him of its weightBestow it where it can and will relieve. Behold the man who rolleth in his wealth,, No want he knoweth that can be supplied { He holdeth in bis grasp, the power to make The world go flooring when, and how, he listeth; And pomp and beauty order to his feet. Then snrely he is blest; bnt no, they say " That money is the root of every ill." In mercy then relieve him'of his load, And lay it where it can be lightly bom*. Behold the tyrant, who, with iron heel, Bides o'er the weak, who cannot from bis path; Whose deeds would put the tiger to the blush, And engines made for torture to the wallCan he be happy with his stony heart t Go, see him as he dreams! a haggard face Looks into his, and bony fingers twine Aronnd his throat, until his tongue and eyes Start out, and he awakes for mercy gasping; God grant it, and in such a way, as it May reach as iar as those en whom he treads. Behold the poor, O God! th' o'erlaboured poor, Who live upon the crumbs their masters deign To let them have: How like they are to degs Who run the game to earth, and get the bones Hurled at them for their pains! Oan'st look with eye , ' Undinimed, on "yonder wight," whom labour hath Bereft of form ereot, and on whose brow A world of care is traced; whose eye hath lost Its manly fire, and face its human look; . And for it all, the wolf' gnaws at bis heart, And snarleth at his starved and ragged ©f» spring? • . How long, 0 God, until this wolf shall lose His teeth, and poverty her icy daws P Behold the crime, O God, that mars the free Of thy creation j or—shall we not say f— " Harmonises'with the prevailing whole!." Behold the murder! not accounted sin; See thousands die in battle not their own; The green earth dyed with ravished woman's blood; The helpless infant dashed upon the stones; See fathers pluck the eyes from out- their heads, Before they'd look on deeds transcending hell. See to the tale that jails and gibbets tell; The workhonie walls explain what lies within. See gentle woman mated with a brute, See simple man curst with a female fiend, See trusting maid to villain fall a prey; Success tread in the wake of hypocrites, And honesty lie grovelling in the mire; See knavery adorned in sumptuous.guise, And " Do as ye'd be done by " rigged in rags; The strong oppress the weak, for " might it right,'' And justice is an article of trade. Bae brother's arm against a brother raised, See son at war with her who gave him birth, See mother choke the breath from out her child, ' And myriads end tbeir ills by suicide. ; . No need there is to range the wilds, to seek For beastly qualities; alas f we have The bird and beast of prey, of every hne, Ev'n at our doors, unmanacled, uncaged. And why it all? from king to beggar down " The world is out of joint," and as it turns, It prateth, gro»neth, soreecheth, in thine ears. There are some gleams of sunshine, but, ah me! They transitory are, and like the flash Of lightning, leave in in a deeper glbum. What parent would bestow his child a toy, And wait until his heart was on it set, Then tear it from his grasp ? For answer, see A mother bending o'er lier dying babe. What king would' bid his subjects to bis gate That he their every want might satisfy, And they perform the journey o'er and o'er A thousand times, returning as they went? For answi r, pee the Christian 1 on his knees, Who starve th as h» saith, "Thy will be done." What shepherd would stand by and see his sheep For whom he saith, " I will lay down my life," Made Laroc of by mad, bloodthirsty wolves ? For answer, see Thy poor, ground-down, enslaved. But why, O God, should such a hostbf ills Exist, to harass those who never asked The being that they bare, and who must fight To keep that being in, or let it but , By a forbidden door ? " 'Its for. our good." Dost say ?—" Our future good ? " 0! if 'tis so, Let's know it by a way we can believe. Forgive me, God! if I have wronged in thought,. Thy Majesty, in thinking as I have Full oft, while gazing with my human eye, Across this sink of " sin and misery," That 'tis not what men deem. That 'tis no earth. That we hare lived before; but when, or how, Thy band has blotted from our memories— And what we're hoodwinked into calling eartb, Is hell, for misdeeds in that former state, From which er'n death may not deliver vs. Jab. Bamov. Thames, October, 1880.