Strength

What lies I read, that men of strength

Have keen and penetrating looks

That, flashing here and flashing there,

Command success- what foolish books!

For when we go to life we find

The men and dogs that fight till death

Are sleepy eyed, and look so calm

We wonder if they live by breath!

Love, too, must hold her saucy tongue,

And turn on us two sleepy eyes,

To prove she is no painted doll,

And full, like books, of pretty lies.