Hold my walking-boots together,
And the gnomes of under Earth
Travailaed at my tie-pin's birth.
Myriad dryads, nude and quick,
Brake for me my walking-stick,
Breathing still in every know
Of the Javan bamboo-plot.
Brotherly, where-e'er I go,
Sheep regard my paletôt,
And the silk worms thrills to note
How his fathers warm my throat.
Atropos,with iron shears,
Cut the cap that guards my ears.
Thus Alphonso's mind can see
In each garment Deity;
And tho' loose the trousers fit,
Nature's forces fashioned it.
Wherefore, steads it not to see
Tailor's work critically,
But, with wide embracing mind,
Gaze at them before, behind,
Since, beyond his needful clothes,
Something more than each man-soul owes,
Brahma shall endure they shirt,
With thy belt is Zeus engirt,
And the tread of either sole
Waken hoes round the pole.