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Andrew Lang - Ballade Of His Books
Work rating: Low

Here stand my books, line upon line
They reach the roof, and row by row,
They speak of faded tastes of mine,
And things I did, but do not, know:
Old school books, useless long ago,
Old Logics, where the spirit, railed in,
Could scarcely answer "yes" or "no" -
The many things I`ve tried and failed in!

Here`s Villon, in morocco fine,
(The Poet starved, in mud and snow,)
Glatigny does not crave to dine,
And Rene`s tears forget to flow.
And here`s a work by Mrs. Crowe,
With hosts of ghosts and bogies jailed in;
Ah, all my ghosts have gone below -
The many things I`ve tried and failed in!

He`s touched, this mouldy Greek divine,
The Princess D`Este`s hand of snow;
And here the arms of D`Hoym shine,
And there`s a tear-bestained Rousseau:
Here`s Carlyle shrieking "woe on woe"
(The first edition, this, he wailed in);
I once believed in him--but oh,
The many things I`ve tried and failed in!

ENVOY.

Prince, tastes may differ; mine and thine
Quite other balances are scaled in;
May you succeed, though I repine -
"The many things I`ve tried and failed in!"
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