Poetry Archives

Since Adam’s first sin in the garden of song,
  Where the hopes of the race were empearled,
Whenever a mortal does anything wrong,
  It is only the way of the world!

If statesmen forget all the pledges they made,
  And the people to evils are hurled,—
Excuse their misdeeds! ’Tis a trick of the trade,
  And is only the way of the world!

If bankers, confusing distinctions of wealth,
  Have your gold to their own pockets whirled,
And then gone to Europe for pleasure and health—
  It is only the way of the world.

If preachers, forgetting the Master of old
  And the banner of light He unfurled,
Elope with the fairest ewe-lambs of the fold,—
  It is only the way of the world.

If merchants, unscrupulous, cheat with a will
  While their lips are at honesty curled,—
Harsh blame, hie away! And your censure, be still!
  It is only the way of the world!

The way of the world! What a happy excuse
  For the faults and the follies unfurled!
Bind virtue securely! The vices turn loose!
  ’Tis the way—’tis the way—of the world!