Classic Poem

In quarantine the vessel lies
Beneath the equatorial skies,
And days and nights grow long and sad —
The hearts that erst were light and glad
Wax heavy, and, thro' clouded eyes,
Relate vain struggles to be wise;
While kindly natures turn to bad
And sanest minds grow slowly mad
In quarantine!

Thus man the Infinite defies!
Arise, my soul, philosophize!
And to your consolations add
That mortal never yet hath had
Such chance to learn that Paradise
God only gives to those He tries
In quarantine!

EPIGRAM

To be clever 's a very fine thing no doubt
And goodness is something to sigh for;
To be clever and good — that lets us out,
So decency's all we can try for!