Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TEMPORA MUTANTUR, by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: The world turns mild; democracy, they say Last Line: To point a moral for our youth to come. Subject(s): Transience; Impermanence | ||||||||
THE world turns mild; democracy, they say, Rounds the sharp knobs of character away, And no great harm, unless at grave expense Of what needs edge of proof, the moral sense; For man or race is on the downward path Whose fibre grows too soft for honest wrath, And there 's a subtle influence that springs From words to modify our sense of things. A plain distinction grows obscure of late: Man, if he will, may pardon; but the State Forgets its function if not fixed as Fate. So thought our sires: a hundred years ago, If men were knaves, why, people called them so, And crime could see the prison-portal bend Its brow severe at no long vista's end. In those days for plain things plain words would serve; Men had not learned to admire the graceful swerve Wherewith the Æsthetic Nature's genial mood Makes public duty slope to private good; No muddled conscience raised the saving doubt; A soldier proved unworthy was drummed out, An officer cashiered, a civil servant (No matter though his piety were fervent) Disgracefully dismissed, and through the land Each bore for life a stigma from the brand Whose far-heard hiss made others more averse To take the facile step from bad to worse. The Ten Commandments had a meaning then, Felt in their bones by least considerate men, Because behind them Public Conscience stood, And without wincing made their mandates good. But now that "Statesmanship" is just a way To dodge the primal curse and make it pay, Since office means a kind of patent drill To force an entrance to the Nation's till, And peculation something rather less Risky than if you spelt it with an s; Now that to steal by law is grown an art, Whom rogues the sires, their milder sons call smart, And "slightly irregular" dilutes the shame Of what had once a somewhat blunter name. With generous curve we draw the moral line: Our swindlers are permitted to resign; Their guilt is wrapped in deferential names, And twenty sympathize for one that blames. Add national disgrace to private crime, Confront mankind with brazen front sublime, Steal but enough, the world is unservere, Tweed is a statesman, Fisk a financier; Invent a mine, and be the Lord knows what; Secure, at any rate, with what you've got. The public servant who has stolen or lied, If called on, may resign with honest pride: As unjust favor put him in, why doubt Disfavor as unjust has turned him out? Even if indicted, what is that but fudge To him who counted-in the elective judge? Whitewashed, he quits the politician's strife At ease in mind, with pockets filled for life: His "lady" glares with gems whose vulgar blaze The poor man through his heightened taxes pays, Himself content if one huge Kohinoor Bulge from a shirt-front ampler than before, But not too candid, lest it haply tend To rouse suspicion of the People's Friend. A public meeting, treated at his cost, Resolves him back more virtue than he lost; With character regilt he counts his gains; What's gone was air, the solid good remains; For what is good, except what friend and foe Seem quite unanimous in thinking so, The stocks and bonds which, in our age of loans, Replace the stupid pagan's stocks and stones? With choker white, wherein no cynic eye Dares see idealized a hempen tie, At parish-meetings he conducts in prayer, And pays for missions to be sent elsewhere; On 'Change respected, to his friends endeared, Add but a Sunday-school-class, he's revered, And his too early tomb will not be dumb To point a moral for our youth to come. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROM THE SPANISH by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 17 by JAMES JOYCE SOUTHERN GOTHIC by DONALD JUSTICE THE BEACH IN AUGUST by WELDON KEES THE MAN SPLITTING WOOD IN THE DAYBREAK by GALWAY KINNELL THE SEEKONK WOODS by GALWAY KINNELL AFTER THE BURIAL by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL |
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