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W
E charge to Mars a host of things, which may be just indeed; We charge him up with making strife, and sowing sinful seed, It seems from him comes nothing good " on which we all agree," Therefore let's put him out of time and drop him in the sea. If all the planets had a vote when he had " made them sore," I think his bitter populace would play the game no more; And all the imps, with monkey tails, that jump from tree to tree Upon the face of "grouchy" Mars, might smile at even me! They say he has a heart of stone, if ally heart at all, Therefore from many flinty ways he really ought to fall And let some good and peaceful gem, with heart akin to love His place adopt, and beam with joy--sweet tokens from above. If he is old and lifeless quite, and as a lifeless reed; If he has lost the last desire, on God's bright beams to feed; If adamantine is his heart, no warmth to take or give And he is dead, then why his house, in which no soul may live? Some night perhaps in whirling on, along his orbit's way A dissolution may take place, the closing of his day, And with his warring implements, and at unnatural pace Step down and out, while " better " orbs, with life, may take his place. I would not throw a lance at Mars, though his repute is bad, But wish a change of heart might come, to make the masses glad; But if he roils the water up, the food-fish all to kill, His little light were better out; pray, is he simply " nil"? |