Part 31 (2/2)
Thus Puffendorf and Feder, each Is, ex cathedra, wont to teach.
Yet, if what such professors say, Each brain to enter durst not, Nature exerts her mother-sway, Provides that ne'er the chain gives way, And that the ripe fruits burst not.
Meanwhile, until earth's structure vast Philosophy can bind at last, 'Tis she that bids its pinion move, By means of hunger and of love!
THE METAPHYSICIAN.
”How far beneath me seems the earthly ball!
The pigmy race below I scarce can see; How does my art, the n.o.blest art of all, Bear me close up to heaven's bright canopy!”
So cries the slater from his tower's high top, And so the little would-be mighty man, Hans Metaphysicus, from out his critic-shop.
Explain, thou little would-be mighty man!
The tower from which thy looks the world survey, Whereof,--whereon is it erected, pray?
How didst thou mount it? Of what use to thee Its naked heights, save o'er the vale to see?
PEGASUS IN HARNESS.
Once to a horse-fair,--it may perhaps have been Where other things are bought and sold,--I mean At the Haymarket,--there the muses' horse A hungry poet brought--to sell, of course.
'The hippogriff neighed shrilly, loudly, And reared upon his hind-legs proudly; In utter wonderment each stood and cried: ”The n.o.ble regal beast!” But, woe betide!
Two hideous wings his slender form deface, The finest team he else would not disgrace.
”The breed,” said they, ”is doubtless rare, But who would travel through the air?”
Not one of them would risk his gold.
At length a farmer grew more bold: ”As for his wings, I of no use should find them, But then how easy 'tis to clip or bind them!
The horse for drawing may be useful found,-- So, friend, I don't mind giving twenty pound!”
The other glad to sell his merchandise, Cried, ”Done!”--and Hans rode off upon his prize.
The n.o.ble creature was, ere long, put-to, But scarcely felt the unaccustomed load, Than, panting to soar upwards, off he flew, And, filled with honest anger, overthrew The cart where an abyss just met the road.
”Ho! ho!” thought Hans: ”No cart to this mad beast I'll trust. Experience makes one wise at least.
To drive the coach to-morrow now my course is, And he as leader in the team shall go.
The lively fellow'll save me full two horses; As years pa.s.s on, he'll doubtless tamer grow.”
All went on well at first. The nimble steed His partners roused,--like lightning was their speed.
What happened next? Toward heaven was turned his eye,-- Unused across the solid ground to fly, He quitted soon the safe and beaten course, And true to nature's strong resistless force, Ran over bog and moor, o'er hedge and pasture tilled; An equal madness soon the other horses filled-- No reins could hold them in, no help was near, Till,--only picture the poor travellers' fear!-- The coach, well shaken, and completely wrecked, Upon a hill's steep top at length was checked.
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