FAITHFUL IN VANITY-FAIR.
87
Smile, hypocrite, smile; it is no such hard labor,
While each stealthy hand stabs the heart of his neighbor—
Faugh! Fear not: we 've no hearts in Vanity-fair.
While each stealthy hand stabs the heart of his neighbor—
Faugh! Fear not: we 've no hearts in Vanity-fair.
The mad crowd divides and then soon closes after:
Afar towers the pyre. Through the shouting and laughter
"What new sport is this?" gasps a reveler, half turning.—
"One Faithful, meek fool, who is led to the burning,
He cumbered us sorely in Vanity-fair.
Afar towers the pyre. Through the shouting and laughter
"What new sport is this?" gasps a reveler, half turning.—
"One Faithful, meek fool, who is led to the burning,
He cumbered us sorely in Vanity-fair.
"A dreamer, who held every man for a brother;
A coward, who, smit on one cheek, gave the other;
A fool, whose blind soul took as truth all our lying,
Too simple to live, so best fitted for dying:
Sure, such are best swept out of Vanity-fair."
A coward, who, smit on one cheek, gave the other;
A fool, whose blind soul took as truth all our lying,
Too simple to live, so best fitted for dying:
Sure, such are best swept out of Vanity-fair."
II.
Silence! though the flames arise and quiver:
Silence! though the crowd howls on forever:
Silence! Through this fiery purgatory
God is leading up a soul to glory.
Silence! though the crowd howls on forever:
Silence! Through this fiery purgatory
God is leading up a soul to glory.
