Quality Hill! It looked down on the town With a tinge of contempt, a suspicion of frown; And why should it not, if you'll please to declare, With the atmosphere such a superior air, And the earth to be trod, any hour in the day, Of a texture more fine than mere commonplace clay? Quality Hill! As you clambered the slope, With each step of ascent (to make use of a trope) An attar pervasive, by some subtle stealth, Began to steal out from the roses of Wealth; And wherever you fared, you beheld on each side A presence arrayed in the trappings of Pride. Quality Hill! There the blood it ran blue; There was more than one crest; there were quarterings, too. Yet small quarter they gave to the stranger that came, Those who bowed before Fashion, that debonair dame, Unless the new-comer crept into the fold Through the magical sign of the Goddess of Gold! Quality Hill! There was satin and silk For "my lady," and dresses as snowy as milk; There was poise, there was pose; there was plenty of art, But who dare assert that beneath it was heart? And envy and malice? But, stay! Could aught ill (God's grace!) have a place upon Quality Hill? Quality Hill! Lo! it flourishes still! And who can deny that forever it will? A blending of breeding with puff and with plume; A strange sort of mixture of rick and mushroom. Some amble, some scramble, (some gamble!) to fill The motley and medley of Quality Hill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FABLES: 1ST SER. 5. THE WILD BOAR AND THE RAM by JOHN GAY ON HIS BEING [OR, HAVING] ARRIVED AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-THREE by JOHN MILTON THE DRUM by JOHN SCOTT (1730-1783) THE WASTE PLACES by JAMES STEPHENS THE VOYAGE OF MAELDUNE by ALFRED TENNYSON IN MEMORIAM (EASTER 1915) by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS PSALM 119 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: HER NAME LIBERTY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |