NOW the New Year, reviving last Year’s Debt, | |
| The Thoughtful Fisher casteth wide his Net; | |
| So I with begging Dish and ready Tongue | |
| Assail all Men for all that I can get. | |
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| Imports indeed are gone with all their Dues— | 5 |
| Lo! Salt a Lever that I dare not use, | |
| Nor may I ask the Tillers in Bengal— | |
| Surely my Kith and Kin will not refuse | |
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| Pay—and I promise by the Dust of Spring, | |
| Retrenchment. If my promises can bring | 10 |
| Comfort, Ye have Them now a thousand-fold— | |
| By Allah! I will promise Anything! | |
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| Indeed, indeed, Retrenchment oft before | |
| I swore—but did I mean it when I swore? | |
| And then, and then, We wandered to the Hills, | 15 |
| And so the Little Less became Much More. | |
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| Whether at Boileaugunge or Babylon, | |
| I know not how the wretched Thing is done, | |
| The Items of Receipt grow surely small; | |
| The Items of Expense mount one by one. | 20 |
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| I cannot help it. What have I to do | |
| With One and Five, or Four, or Three, or Two? | |
| Let Scribes spit Blood and Sulphur as they please, | |
| Or Statesmen call me foolish—Heed not you. | |
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| Behold, I promise—Anything You will. | 25 |
| Behold, I greet you with an empty Till— | |
| Ah! Fellow-Sinners, of your Charity | |
| Seek not the Reason of the Dearth but fill. | |
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| For if I sinned and fell, where lies the Gain | |
| Of Knowledge? Would it ease you of your Pain | 30 |
| To know the tangled Threads of Revenue, | |
| I ravel deeper in a hopeless Skein? | |
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| “Who hath not Prudence”—what was it I said, | |
| Of Her who paints Her Eyes and tires Her Head, | |
| And jibes and mocks the People in the Street, | 35 |
| And fawns upon them for Her thriftless Bread? | |
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| Accursed is She of Eve’s daughters—She | |
| Hath cast off Prudence, and Her End shall be | |
| Destruction…. Brethren, of your Bounty grant | |
| Some portion of your daily Bread to Me! | 40 |
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