Random Heart

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Why is a man thus wicked,
With the sum of his light darkness
And the kindness of his heart
malice?
Why a smile ever so cunning,
AT once indicating welcome
And at once savouring mischief?
What can culture the heart
Or cultivate its nobility?
Who knows how,
To fetter its feet
And to cure it from bloodshed?
The stocks of good breeding,
cannot still envy,
Neither the yoke of choice lineage
master violence.
The reigns of education do little
To govern incontinence,
And an hundred school masters
could ne’er
Embalm a foolhardy heart with
wisdom.
It will learn to lust all by itself,
It requires no tutoring to hate.
What defences lie against an
offended heart,
Who can escape its fiery
contentions?
Wherewith shall a man dam up a
torrent of wrath?
silver shall not suffice
Where jealousy is rife,
Neither tears when vengeance is
ripe.
The fruit of a bitter heart,
Is A scorpion sting
And a serpent’s fang.
Why is a man thus unrelenting,
When a few feet down the path,
He shall not himself proceed,
Without returning and repenting?
BY L.S.

 

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