Rhymes of the East and Re-collected Verses Part 10

For on this day, from Orient toils enlarged, Kneeling, I kissed the parent soil at Dover, Where a huge porter in his...o...b..t charged Me over;

Flashed in the train by Shorncliffe's draughty camp; Gazed on the hurrying landscape's pastoral graces, Old farms, and happy fields (a trifle damp In places);

Pa.s.sed the grim suburbs, indigent and bare Of natural foliage, but bravely flying Frank garlandry of last week's underwear Out drying;

And so to Town; and with that blessed sight I, a poor fevered wreck, forgot to shiver-- Forgot to mourn the Burden of my White Man's Liver;

And felt my bosom heave, my breast expand, With thoughts too sweet, too deep for empty cackle, Such thoughts as nothing but a first-cla.s.s Band Could tackle:

Till, from its deeps, my celebrated smile (Which friends called Marvel) clove my jaws asunder, Lucid, intense, and all men stood awhile In wonder!

Let none approach me now, for I have dined; The fire is bright; Havana's choice aroma Infects my being with a pleasant kind Of coma;

Calmly I contemplate my future lot: I reconstruct the past--it fails to strike me With aught of horror (pity there are not More like me!)--

My bosom's lord sits lightly on my breast; The East grows dim; and every hour I stuck to it Imparts a richer brightness to the West, Good luck to it!