On the House of Commons
After Swinburne; created upon the Occasion of Mr CLEGG's war on the noble Lords of Parliament.
Cold eyes that hide like a jewel
Hard thoughts that grow soft on the tongue;
The heavy, thick lies, and the cruel
Red sins that stain old and young;
When these are gone, past into fading,
What shall rest of thee then, what remain,
O place now magic, now degrading,
Our House of Champagne?
Seven sorrows the priests give their Virgin,
But they sins, which are seventy times seven,
Seven ages have leapt thro' like sturgeon,
To make for thyself a sweet heaven;
Fierce midnights and famishing morrows,
And the power that loves complete control,
All the joys of the flesh, all the sorrows
That wear out the soul.
O garment not golden but gilded,
O garden where few men may dwell,
O House not of us but rebuilded,
By hands that are few and known well;
O mire of the mystical rose,
O house not of gold, but of gain,
O place of the liar's repose,
Our House of Champagne!
Of yesterday's reach and to-morrow's,
They think not as they lie for today,
There have been and there yet shall be sorrows
That shall smite all but them in their play.
The Life and the love thou despisest -
These bring to you but little gain,
O fools among greedy, most foolish,
Our House of Champagne.
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