Advenæ Mendici.

Hark, hark, the dogs do bark,
The beggars have come to town;
Some in rags and some in jags,
And some in velvet gowns.

    En! cum canum latratu,
    Et multo ululatu;
Veniunt mendici repentes,
    Egeni, pannosi,
    Squalentes, exosi,
Vel sericas togas gerentes.

Jacob Bigelow

Jacob Bigelow was an American physician, botanist, and botanical illustrator. He was instrumental in the founding of Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Massachusetts, the first rural cemetery in the United States and a precursor to America's public parks. Bigelow was a leading advocate for modernizing medicine and medical education, focusing on practical medicine and scientific advancements. His contributions to botany include the publication of 'American Medical Botany,' which combined his medical knowledge with detailed botanical illustrations.

Jacob Bigelow

Ansercula.

Jacob Bigelow, Simple Poetry

Mors Turdo-Galli.

Jacob Bigelow, Simple Poetry

Lunicola.

Jacob Bigelow, Simple Poetry

English

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Magi Gothamenses.

Three wise men of Gotham
Went to sea in a bowl.
If the bowl had been stronger,
My song had been longer.

Tres magi Gothamenses
In scypho mare tranant
Si cymba secura,
Canenda sint plura.

Cives tres docti Gothamenses æquora verrunt,
Crater et fragilis corpora obesa vehit.
Mox en tempestas, surguntque ad sidera fluctus.
Musa dolens casum nunc memorare nequit.

Jacob Bigelow

Mendicants

Bleak, in dark rags of clouds, the day begins,
That passed so splendidly but yesterday,
Wrapped in magnificence of gold and gray,
And poppy and rose. Now, burdened as with sins,
Their wildness clad in fogs, like coats of skins,
Tattered and streaked with rain; gaunt, clogged with clay,
The mendicant Hours take their somber way
Westward o'er Earth, to which no sunray wins.
Their splashing sandals ooze; their foosteps drip,
Puddle and brim with moisture; their sad hair
Is tagged with haggard drops, that with their eyes'
Slow streams are blent; each sullen fingertip
Rivers; while round them, in the grief-drenched air
Wearies the wind of their perpetual sighs.

Madison Julius Cawein

Mendicants

Bleak, in dark rags of clouds, the day begins,
That passed so splendidly but yesterday,
Wrapped in magnificence of gold and gray,
And poppy and rose. Now, burdened as with sins,
Their wildness clad in fogs, like coats of skins,
Tattered and streaked with rain; gaunt, clogged with clay,
The mendicant Hours take their somber way
Westward o'er Earth, to which no sunray wins.
Their splashing sandals ooze; their footsteps drip,
Puddle and brim with moisture; their sad hair
Is tagged with haggard drops, that with their eyes'
Slow streams are blent; each sullen fingertip
Rivers; while round them, in the grief-drenched air
Wearies the wind of their perpetual sighs.

Madison Julius Cawein

Miles Redux.

Who comes here?
A Grenadier.
What do you want?
A pot of beer.
Wheres your money?
Ive forgot.
Get you gone,
You drunken sot.

Heus! Quis illic?
Ductor militiæ.
Quid petis hic?
Cantharum cervisiæ.
Ubi moneta?
Loqueris oblito.
O, ebriose,
In malum abito.

Jacob Bigelow

Felis In Fidibus.

Heigh diddle diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon.
The little dog laughed
To see such a craft,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.

Hidideldelis,
In fidibus felis,
Super lunam vacca saltavit.
Tum risit canicula,
Visâ re tam ridiculâ,
Et lanx cochleare raptavit.

Jacob Bigelow

The Mendicants.

We are as mendicants who wait
Along the roadside in the sun.
Tatters of yesterday and shreds
Of morrow clothe us every one.

And some are dotards, who believe
And glory in the days of old;
While some are dreamers, harping still
Upon an unknown age of gold.

Hopeless or witless! Not one heeds,
As lavish Time comes down the way
And tosses in the suppliant hat
One great new-minted gold To-day.

Ungrateful heart and grudging thanks,
His beggar's wisdom only sees
Housing and bread and beer enough;
He knows no other things than these.

O foolish ones, put by your care!
Where wants are many, joys are few;
And at the wilding springs of peace,
God keeps an open house for you.


But that some Fortunatus' gift
Is lyi...

Bliss Carman