Black Beetles in Amber - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 140

DOWN AMONG THE DEAD MEN

Within my dark and narrow bed I rested well, new-laid:I heard above my fleshless head The grinding of a spade.A gruffer note ensued and grew To harsh and harsher strains:The poet Welcker then I knew Was "snatching" my remains."O Welcker, let your hand be stayed And leave me here in peace.Of your revenge you should have made An end with my decease.""Hush, Mouldyshanks, and hear my moan: I once, as you're aware,Was eminent in letters—known And honored everywhere."My splendor made all Berkeley bright And Sacramento blind.Men swore no writer e'er could write Like me—if I'd a mind."With honors all insatiate, With curst ambition smit,Too far, alas! I tempted fate— I published what I'd writ!"Good Heaven! with what a hunger wild Oblivion swallows fame!Men who have known me from a child Forget my very name!"Even creditors with searching looks My face cannot recall;My heaviest one—he prints my books— Oblivious most of all."O I should feel a sweet content If one poor dun his claimWould bring to me for settlement, And bully me by name."My dog is at my gate forlorn; It howls through all the night,And when I greet it in the morn It answers with a bite!""O Poet, what in Satan's name To me's all this ado?Will snatching me restore the fame That printing snatched from you?""Peace, dread Remains; I'm not about To do a deed of sin.I come not here to hale you out— I'm trying to get in."