Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
France: Vols. IX–X. 1876–79. | | | | Ardennes | | Ardennes | | William Shakespeare (1564–1616) |
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A FOOL, a fool!—I met a fool i’ the forest, | |
| A motley fool; a miserable world! | |
| As I do live by food, I met a fool, | |
| Who laid him down and bask’d him in the sun, | |
| And rail’d on lady Fortune in good terms, | 5 |
| In good set terms,—and yet a motley fool. | |
| “Good morrow, fool,” quoth I: “No, sir,” quoth he, | |
| “Call me not fool, till heaven hath sent me fortune.” | |
| And then he drew a dial from his poke, | |
| And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, | 10 |
| Says very wisely, “It is ten o’clock: | |
| Thus may we see,” quoth he, “how the world wags: | |
| ’T is but an hour ago since it was nine, | |
| And after an hour more ’t will be eleven: | |
| And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, | 15 |
| And then from hour to hour we rot and rot; | |
| And thereby hangs a tale.” When I did hear | |
| The motley fool thus moral on the time, | |
| My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, | |
| That fools should be so deep-contemplative; | 20 |
| And I did laugh, sans intermission, | |
| An hour by his dial.—O, noble fool! | |
| A worthy fool! Motley’s the only wear. | | | | |
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