Complete Works of Robert Louis Stevenson (Illustrated) (887 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of Robert Louis Stevenson (Illustrated)
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Now long enough has day endured,

Or King Apollo Palinured,

Seaward be steers his panting team,

And casts on earth his latest gleam.

But see! the Tramps with jaded eye

Their destined provinces espy.

Long through the hills their way they took,

Long camped beside the mountain brook;

‘Tis over; now with rising hope

They pause upon the downward slope,And as their aching bones they rest,

Their anxious captain scans the west.

So paused Alaric on the Alps

And ciphered up the Roman scalps.

 
The Foolhardy Geographer.

The howling desert miles around,

The tinkling brook the only sound —

Wearied with all his toils and feats,

The traveller dines on potted meats;

On potted meats and princely wines,

Not wisely but too well he dines.

The brindled Tiger loud may roar,

High may the hovering Vulture soar,

Alas! regardless of them all,

Soon shall the empurpled glutton sprawl —

Soon, in the desert’s hushed repose,Shall trumpet tidings through his nose!

Alack, unwise! that nasal song

Shall be the Ounce’s dinner-gong!

 

A blemish in the cut appears;

Alas! it cost both blood and tears.

The glancing graver swerved aside,

Fast flowed the artist’s vital tide!

And now the apolegetic bard

Demands indulgence for his pard!

 
The Angler & the Clown.

The echoing bridge you here may see,

The pouring lynn, the waving tree,

The eager angler fresh from town —

Above, the contumelious clown.

‘The angler plies his line and rod,

The clodpole stands with many a nod, —

With many a nod and many a grin,

He sees him cast his engine in.

“What have you caught?” the peasant cries.

“Nothing as yet,” the Fool replies.

 

 

MORAL TALES

 

 v:shapes=“x0000i1336”>

ROB AND BEN

 

or

The PIRATE and the APOTHECARY.

Scene the First.

 

or

The PIRATE and the APOTHECARY.

Scene the Second.

 

Scene the Third.  ROBIN AND BEN: OR, THE PIRATE AND THE APOTHECARY

 

Come lend me an attentive ear

A startling moral tale to hear,

Of Pirate Rob and Chemist Ben,

And different destinies of men.

Deep in the greenest of the vales

That nestle near the coast of Wales,

The heaving main but just in view,

Robin and Ben together grew,

Together worked and played the fool,

Together shunned the Sunday school,

And pulled each other’s youthful noses

Around the cots, among the roses.

Together but unlike they grew;

Robin was rough, and through and through

Bold, inconsiderate, and manly,

Like some historic Bruce or Stanley.

Ben had a mean and servile soul,

He robbed not, though he often stole.

He sang on Sunday in the choir,

And tamely capped the passing Squire.At length, intolerant of trammels —

Wild as the wild Bithynian camels,

Wild as the wild sea-eagles — Bob

His widowed dam contrives to rob,

And thus with great originality

Effectuates his personality.

Thenceforth his terror-haunted flight

He follows through the starry night;

And with the early morning breeze,

Behold him on the azure seas.

The master of a trading dandy

Hires Robin for a go of brandy;

And all the happy hills of home

Vanish beyond the fields of foam.

Ben, meanwhile, like a tin reflector,

Attended on the worthy rector;

Opened his eyes and held his breath,

And flattered to the point of death;

And was at last, by that good fairy,

Apprenticed to the Apothecary.

So Ben, while Robin chose to ro

A rising chemist was at home,

Tended his shop with learnéd air,

Watered his drugs and oiled his hair,

And gave advice to the unwary,

Like any sleek apothecary.Meanwhile upon the deep afar

Robin the brave was waging war,

With other tarry desperadoes

About the latitude of Barbadoes.

He knew no touch of craven fear;

His voice was thunder in the cheer;

First, from the main-to’-gallan’ high,

The skulking merchantman to spy —

The first to bound upon the deck,

The last to leave the sinking wreck.

His hand was steel, his word was law,

His mates regarded him with awe.

No pirate in the whole profession

Held a more honourable position.

At length, from years of anxious toil,

Bold Robin seeks his native soil;

Wisely arranges his affairs,

And to his native dale repairs.

The Bristol Swallow sets him down

Beside the well-remembered town.

He sighs, he spits, he marks the scene,

Proudly he treads the village green;

And free from pettiness and rancour,

Takes lodgings at the ‘Crown and Anchor.’

Strange when a man so great and good,

Once more in his home-country stood,

Strange that the sordid clowns should show

A dull desire to have him go.His clinging breeks, his tarry hat,

The way he swore, the way he spat,

A certain quality of manner,

Alarming like the pirate’s banner —

Something that did not seem to suit all —

Something, O call it bluff, not brutal —

Something at least, howe’er it’s called,

Made Robin generally black-balled.

His soul was wounded; proud and glum,

Alone he sat and swigged his rum,

And took a great distaste to men

Till he encountered Chemist Ben.

Bright was the hour and bright the day,

That threw them in each other’s way;

Glad were their mutual salutations,

Long their respective revelations.

Before the inn in sultry weather

They talked of this and that together;

Ben told the tale of his indentures,

And Rob narrated his adventures.

Last, as the point of greatest weight,

The pair contrasted their estate,

And Robin, like a boastful sailor,

Despised the other for a tailor.

‘See,’ he remarked, ‘with envy, see

A man with such a fist as me!

Bearded and ringed, and big, and brown,

I sit and toss the stingo down.Hear the gold jingle in my bag —

All won beneath the Jolly Flag!’

Ben moralised and shook his head:

‘You wanderers earn and eat your bread.

The foe is found, beats or is beaten,

And either how, the wage is eaten.

And after all your pully-hauly

Your proceeds look uncommon small-ly.

You had done better here to tarry

Apprentice to the Apothecary.

The silent pirates of the shore

Eat and sleep soft, and pocket more

Than any red, robustious ranger

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