The Jester’s Plea

   [Published in a volume by several authors for the benefit of the starving weavers of Lancashire during the American civil war.] THE WORLD! Was jester ever in   A viler than the present? Yet if it ugly be—as sin,   It almost is—as pleasant! It is a merry world (pro tem.);   And some are gay, and therefore It pleases them—but some condemn   The fun they do not care for. It is an ugly world. Offend   Good people—how they wrangle! The manners that they never mend!   The characters they mangle! They eat, and drink, and scheme, and plot   And go to church on Sunday; And many are afraid of God—   And more of Mrs. Grundy. The time for Pen and Sword was when   “My ladye fayre” for pity Could tend her wounded knight, and then   Grow tender at his ditty! Some ladies now make pretty songs,   And some make pretty nurses; Some men are good for righting wrongs   And some for writing verses. I wish We better understood   The tax that poets levy! I know the Muse is very good—   I think she ’s rather heavy. She now compounds for winning ways   By morals of the sternest: Methinks the lays of nowadays   Are painfully in earnest. When Wisdom halts, I humbly try   To make the most of Folly; If Pallas be unwilling, I   Prefer to flirt with Polly: To quit the goddess for the maid   Seems low in lofty musers; But Pallas is a haughty jade—   And beggars can’t be choosers. I do not wish to see the slaves   Of party, stirring passion; Or psalms quite superseding staves,   Or piety “the fashion.” I bless the hearts where pity glows,   Who, here together banded, Are holding out a hand to those   That wait so empty-handed! A righteous work!—My Masters, may   A Jester by confession, Scarce noticed join, half sad, half gay,   The close of your procession? The motley here seems out of place   With graver robes to mingle; But if one tear bedews his face,   Forgive the bells their jingle.