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Dinah Maria Mulock - The Good Of It
Work rating: Low

A Cynic`s Song.

SOME men strut proudly, all purple and gold, 
Hiding queer deeds `neath a cloak of good fame; 
I creep along, braving hunger and cold, 
To keep my heart stainless as well as my name; 
So, so, where is the good of it? 

Some clothe bare Truth in fine garments of words, 
Fetter her free limbs with cumbersome state: 
With me, let me sit at the lordliest boards, 
"I love" means I love, and "I hate" means I hate, 
But, but, where is the good of it? 

Some have rich dainties and costly attire, 
Guests fluttering round them and duns at the door: 
I crouch alone at my plain board and fire, 
Enjoy what I pay for and scorn to have more. 
Yet, yet, where is the good of it? 

Some gather round them a phalanx of friends, 
Scattering affection like coin in a crowd; 
I keep my heart for the few that heaven sends, 
Where they`ll find their names writ when I lie in my shroud. 
Still, still, where is the good of it? 

Some toy with love, lightly come, lightly go, 
A blithe game at hearts, little worth, little cost:-- 
I staked my whole soul on one desperate throw, 
A life `gainst an hour`s sport. We played` and I--lost 
Ha, ha, such was the good of it!

Moral: Added On His Death-Bed
 
TURN the Past`s mirror backward. Its shadows removed, 
The dim confused mass becomes softened, sublime: 
I have worked--I have felt--I have lived--I have loved, 
And each was a step towards the goal I now climb: 
Thou, God, Thou sawest the good of it.
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