THE APOLOGY by JAMES STEPHENS

Do not be distant with me, do not be
Angry to hear I drank deep of your wine,
But treat a laughing matter laughingly;
For 'tis the poet's failing, to incline,
By nature and by art, to jollity.

Always I loved to see -- sight all too rare!
A rich, red, tide lip at a flagon's brim;
To sit, half fool and half philosopher;
To chat with every kind of her and him;
And to shrug at lore of money-gatherer.

Often I trudge the mud by hedge and wall;
And often there's no money in my purse!
Nor malice in my heart ever at all!
And of my songs no person is the worse,
But I myself, who give my all to all.

Though busybody told, say -- what of it!
Say, kindliest man of kindest men that live,
-- The poet only takes his sup and bit!
And say -- It is no great return to give
For his unstinted gift of verse and wit!

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