A Cynic's Song. <br /> <br />SOME men strut proudly, all purple and gold, <br />Hiding queer deeds 'neath a cloak of good fame; <br />I creep along, braving hunger and cold, <br />To keep my heart stainless as well as my name; <br />So, so, where is the good of it? <br /> <br />Some clothe bare Truth in fine garments of words, <br />Fetter her free limbs with cumbersome state: <br />With me, let me sit at the lordliest boards, <br />'I love' means I love, and 'I hate' means I hate, <br />But, but, where is the good of it? <br /> <br />Some have rich dainties and costly attire, <br />Guests fluttering round them and duns at the door: <br />I crouch alone at my plain board and fire, <br />Enjoy what I pay for and scorn to have more. <br />Yet, yet, where is the good of it? <br /> <br />Some gather round them a phalanx of friends, <br />Scattering affection like coin in a crowd; <br />I keep my heart for the few that heaven sends, <br />Where they'll find their names writ when I lie in my shroud. <br />Still, still, where is the good of it? <br /> <br />Some toy with love, lightly come, lightly go, <br />A blithe game at hearts, little worth, little cost:-- <br />I staked my whole soul on one desperate throw, <br />A life 'gainst an hour's sport. We played' and I--lost <br />Ha, ha, such was the good of it! <br /> <br />Moral: Added On His Death-Bed <br /> <br />TURN the Past's mirror backward. Its shadows removed, <br />The dim confused mass becomes softened, sublime: <br />I have worked--I have felt--I have lived--I have loved, <br />And each was a step towards the goal I now climb: <br />Thou, God, Thou sawest the good of it.<br /><br />Dinah Maria Mulock Craik<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-good-of-it/
