Cheer, courtiers! round the splendid spread,— br The board that groans with shame and plate; br Still fawning to the sham-crowned head br That hopes its brass will turn its fate! br Drink till the comer last is full, br And never hear in revels' lull, br Grim Vengeance forging arrows fleet, br Whilst I gnaw at the crust br Of Exile in the dust— br But honour makes it sweet! br br Ye cheaters in the trickster's fame, br Who dupe yourself and trickster-chief, br In blazing cafes spend the gain, br But draw the blind lest at his thief br Some fresh-made beggar gives a glance br And interrupts with steel the dance! br But let him toilsomely tramp by, br As I myself afar br Follow no gilded car br In ways of honesty. br br Ye troopers who shot mothers down, br And marshals whose brave cannonade br Broke infant arms and split the stone br Where slumbered age and guileless maid,— br Though blood is the cup you fill, br Pretend it 'rosy' wine, and still br Hail cannon 'king,' and steel the 'queen!' br But I prefer to sup br From Philip Sidney's cup,— br True soldier's draught serene.