Mr.
MacCall at Cleveland Hall,
Sunday evening-date to fix-
Fifteenth April, sixty-six,
Speech reported and redacted
By a fellow much distracted.
I
Who
lectures? No mere scorner;
Clear-brained, his heart is warm.
She
sits at the nearest comer
Of I will not say what form.
II
The
Conflict of Opinions
In the Present Day, saith Chair.
What
muff in the British dominions
Could dispute that she is fair?
III
Mammon-worship
is horrid,
Plutocracy is base.
Dark
hair from a fine small forehead;
I catch but the still side face.
IV
We wallow in mere dimension,
The Big to us is Great.
If
she stood at her utmost tension
She might pass four feet eight.
V
We
lay on colour in splashes,
With a mop, or a broom for brush.
How
dark are her long eyelashes!
How pure is her cheek's slight flush!
VI
But
we have no perception
For form-the divinest-now.
Each
curve there is perfection,
In nostril, chin, and brow.
VI
Our
women are good kind creatures,
But they cannot dress at all.
Does
her bonnet grace her features?
Clear blue with a black lace fall.
VIII
Low
Church-very low-in the gutter;
High Church-as ven'son high.
O'er
the flower of her face gleams the flutter
Of a smile like a butterfly.
IX
Herder,
Wieland, Lessing;
Bossuet, Montalembert.
Fine
names, but the name worth guessing
Is the name of the sweet girl there.
The
individual; true man;
Individuality.
A
man's but one half, some woman
The other half must be.
XI
Persistent
valour the sternest,
With love's most gentle grace.
How
grand is the eye fixed earnest
In the half-seen up-turned face!
XII
'How
did you like the lecture?
Was it not beautiful?'
I
should think she was! 'I conjecture
That your brains have been gathering wool!'
P.
S.
The
Chairman was a rare man;
At every telling point
He smiled at his post like a jolly host
Carving rich cuts from the joint;
Which the name he bore was Richard Moore
Whom Heaven with grace anoint!
That
conflict of opinion
It had its counterpart
In conflict for dominion
Between my head and heart.
