Martin Farquhar Tupper (1810 – 1880)
English writer, and poet, and the author of Proverbial Philosophy.
How gladly would I wander through some strange and savage land,
The lasso at my saddle-bow, the rifle in my hand,
A leash of gallant mastiffs bounding by my side,
And, for a friend to love, the noble horse on which I ride!
Alone, alone—yet not alone, for God is with me there,
The tender hand of Providence shall guide me everywhere,
While happy thoughts and holy hopes, as spirits calm and mild,
Shall fan with their sweet wings the hermit-hunter of the wild!
A good book is the best of friends, the same today and forever.
O fair, false city, thou gay and gilded harlot!
Wo for thy wanton heart, wo for thy wicked hardness!
Wo unto thee, that the lightsomeness of life, beneath Italian suns,
Should meet the solemnity of death, in a sepulchre so foul and fearful!
God, from a beautiful necessity, is Love in all he doeth,
Love, a brilliant fire, to gladden or consume:
The wicked work their woe by looking upon love, and hating it:
The righteous find their joys in yearning on its loveliness for ever.
A dream, a dream, — it is all a dream,
A strange, sad dream, good sooth;
For old as I am, and old as I seem,
My heart is full of youth.
Who shall guess what I may be?
Who can tell my fortune to me?
For, bravest and brightest that ever was sung
May be — and shall be — the lot of the young!