Our times are in his hand Who saith, "A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!" Then, welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe! 5 Which comforts while it mocks, Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail: What I aspired to be, And was not, comforts me: A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the 15 scale. Therefore I summon age To grant youth's heritage, Life's struggle having so far reached its term: Thence shall I pass, approved A man, for aye removed From the developed brute; a God though in the germ. 20 And I shall thereupon Take rest, ere I be gone Once more on my adventure brave and new: 5 When I wage battle next, What weapons to select, what armor to indue. Youth ended, I shall try My gain or loss thereby; Leave the fire ashes, what survives is gold: 10 And I shall weigh the same, Give life its praise or blame: Young, all lay in dispute; I shall know, being old. Now, who shall arbitrate? Ten men love what I hate, 15 Shun what I follow, slight what I receive; Ten, who in ears and eyes Match me we all surmise, They this thing, and I that: whom shall my soul believe? Not on the vulgar mass 20 Called "work," must sentence pass, Things done, that took the eye and had the price; The low world laid its hand, Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice: But all, the world's coarse thumb And finger failed to plumb, So passed in making up the main account; All instincts immature, All purposes unsure, That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's amount: Thoughts hardly to be packed Into a narrow act, Fancies that broke through language and escaped; All I could never be, All, men ignored in me, This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped. So, take and use thy work: Amend what flaws may lurk, What strain o' the stuff, what warpings past the aim! 15 My times be in thy hand! Perfect the cup as planned! Let age approve of youth, and death complete the same! Abridged. aye: ever. – in- - nor: neither. — paradox: a seeming contradiction. THE FALL OF WOLSEY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE NOTE. Thomas Wolsey, cardinal, archbishop of York, and prime minister of Henry VIII, was at one time the most powerful man in England, but in 1529 he displeased the king and was deprived of all his dignities. To his genius England owed much of her subsequent greatness, but 5 he made bitter enemies and was undoubtedly careless in his use of the public money. Wolsey's servant, Thomas Cromwell, became Henry's secretary, and was afterwards Earl of Essex. His career was very similar to that of Wolsey, and he was finally executed by Henry's order in 1540. A hun10 dred years later, Oliver Cromwell, of the same family, left his quiet home to fight for England's liberty against England's king. The following scene is from "King Henry VIII." Wolsey has been left alone in the antechamber to the royal apartment. Wolsey. What should this mean? 15 What sudden anger's this? How have I reaped it? He parted frowning from me, as if ruin Leaped from his eyes: so looks the chafèd lion Upon the daring huntsman that has galled him; Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper; 20 I fear, the story of his anger. 'Tis so; This paper has undone me: 't is the account Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together Made me put this main secret in the packet 5 10 No new device to beat this from his brains? I know 't will stir him strongly; yet I know A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune Will bring me off again. What's this? "To the Pope!" The letter, as I live, with all the business I writ to's Holiness. Nay then, farewell! I have touched the highest point of all my greatness; I haste now to my setting: I shall fall [Enter the DUKES OF NORFOLK and SUFFOLK, the EARL OF SURREY, and the LORD CHAMBERLAIN.] Norfolk. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal: who commands you To render up the great seal presently Into our hands; and to confine yourself To Asher House, my Lord of Winchester's, hear further from His Highness. Till you Wol. Stay: Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry Suffolk. Who dare cross 'em, Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly? Wol. Till I find more than will or words to do it, I mean your malice, know, officious lords, I dare and must deny it. |