THERE were two youths of equal age，

    Wit， station， strength， and parentage；

    They studied at the self-same schools，

    And shaped their thoughts by common rules.

    One pondered on the life of man，

    His hopes， his endings， and began

    To rate the Market's sordid¹ war

    As something scarce worth living for.

    "I'll brace² to higher aims，" said he，

    "I'll further Truth and Purity；

    Thereby³ to mend and mortal lot

    And sweeten sorrow. Thrive I not，

    "Winning their hearts， my kind will give

    Enough that I may lowly live，

    And house my Love in some dim dell，

    For pleasing them and theirs so well."

    Idly attired⁴， with features wan⁵，

    In secret swift he labored⁶ on；

    Such press of power had brought much gold

    Applied⁷ to things of meaner mould.

    Sometimes he wished his aims had been

    To gather gains like other men；

    Then thanked his God he'd traced his track

    Too far for wish to drag him back.

    He look鋄 from his loft⁸ one day

    To where his slighted garden lay；

    Nettles⁹ and hemlock¹⁰ hid each lawn，

    And every flower was starved and gone.

    He fainted in his heart， whereon

    He rose， and sought his plighted¹¹ one，

    Resolved to loose her bond withal，

    Lest she should perish in his fall.

    He met her with a careless air，

    As though he'd ceased to find her fair，

    And said： "True love is dust to me；

    I cannot kiss： I tire of thee！"

    （That she might scorn him was he fain，

    To put her sooner out of pain；

    For incensed¹² love breathes quick and dies，

    When famished¹³ love a-lingering lies.）

    Once done， his soul was so betossed，

    It found no more the force it lost：

    Hope was his only drink and food，

    And hope extinct， decay ensued.

    And， living long so closely penned，

    He had not kept a single friend；

    He dwindled¹⁴ thin as phantoms¹⁵ be，

    And drooped¹⁶ to death in poverty……

    Meantime his schoolmate had gone out

    To join the fortune-finding rout¹⁷；

    He liked the winnings of the mart，

    But wearied of the working part.

    He turned to seek a privy¹⁸ lair¹⁹，

    Neglecting note of garb²⁰ and hair，

    And day by day reclined and thought

    How he might live by doing nought²¹.

    "I plan a valued scheme，" he said

    To some. "But lend me of your bread，

    And when the vast result looms²² nigh，

    In profit you shall stand as I."

    Yet they took counsel to restrain

    Their kindness till they saw the gain；

    And， since his substance now had run，

    He rose to do what might be done.

    He went unto his Love by night，

    And said： "My Love， I faint in fight：

    Deserving as thou dost a crown，

    My cares shall never drag thee down."

    （He had descried²³ a maid whose line

    Would hand her on much corn and wine，

    And held her far in worth above

    One who could only pray and love.）

    But this Fair read him； whence he failed

    To do the deed so blithely²⁴ hailed；

    He saw his projects wholly marred²⁵，

    And gloom and want oppressed him hard；

    Till， living to so mean an end，

    Whereby he'd lost his every friend，

    He perished in a pauper²⁶ sty，

    His mate the dying pauper nigh.

    And moralists， reflecting， said，

    As "dust to dust" in burial read

    Was echoed from each coffin-lid，

    "These men were like in all they did."

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