Moral Emblems. Роберт Стивенсон

      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.

      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!

      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,