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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BLATHERSKITE by LEVI BISHOP

First Line: A BURDEN RESTS UPON THE MIND
Last Line: MAY WRITE HIMSELF A BLATHERSKITE.
Subject(s): MUSES; PEACE;
A burden rests upon the mind,
Of which the wise and good may write;
The mighty subject is to find,
And clear unfold to dull and blind
The proper sense of blatherskite.

To start with beasts: The surly dog,
That growls and snaps as if to bite;
The stubborn ox upon the bog;
The nag that holds the tedious jog;
May each be termed a blatherskite.

The girl and boy that idly shun,
Where truth and culture free invite;
A wicked race have thus begun;
Will soon a race of sorrow run;
Will soon become the blatherskite.

The crafty beggar that by stealth,
His tale of want can grim recite;
And pity claim; and yet has wealth
In ample store; and strength and health;
Expose the cheat -- the blatherskite.

The miser, with a heart of ice,
Whose very smile is chilling blight;
Whose coffers are his paradise;
Who blooms in every sordid vice;
Oh, blast the blasted blatherskite!

The would-be critic; ever wise
In self conceit, yet seldom right;
A lump of venom in disguise;
A chronic grumbler; ah despise
And kick the sneaking blatherskite.

Who social circle ape to lead,
Without the solid requisite;
Where high pretension is the creed,
And every look betrays the breed;
Avaunt, ye vulgar blatherskite.

Behold the swelling parvenu,
The uninvited parasite;
Who tawdry flaunts in public view;
To baser instincts ever true;
In every place a blatherskite.

The ever happy, smiling home --
A theme we know is always trite;
Who mar it; or neglectful roam;
Its present peace and that to come
Destroy; Oh, brand the blatherskite.

Shall we a stanza, brief, essay,
Of theme that shuns the ear polite?
Let wild suggestion freely play?
No; no; the fashions of the day,
Court other name than blatherskite.

Ye who, with eye and ear intent,
Behold us here so gaily dight;
The real scamp to represent;
Ye soon may guess the skitey meant,
And silent name the blatherskite.

A dozen rhymes we thus have made,
And some perhaps the muse will fright;
Have run a word in every shade;
Who likes it not, the renegade,
May write himself a blatherskite.



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