The Apology

Do not be distant with me, do not be
Angry to hear I drank deep of your wine,
But treat a laughing matter laughingly;
For 'tis the poet's failing, to incline,
By nature and by art, to jollity.

Always I loved to see—sight all too rare!
A rich, red, tide lip at a flagon's brim;
To sit, half fool and half philosopher;
To chat with every kind of her and him;
And to shrug at lore of money-gatherer.

Often I trudge the mud by hedge and wall;
And often there's no money in my purse!
Nor malice in my heart ever at all!
And of my songs no person is the worse,
But I myself, who give my all to all.

Though busybody told, say—what of it!
Say, kindliest man of kindest men that live,
—The poet only takes his sup and bit!
And say—It is no great return to give
For his unstinted gift of verse and wit!

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Volsebnik's picture

"Though busybody told, say—what of it!
Say, kindliest man of kindest men that live,
—The poet only takes his sup and bit!
And say—It is no great return to give
For his unstinted gift of verse and wit!"

Wonderful lines!

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