e veins and melt
The ice of convention, caste and creed,
To the very last barrier, has no need
To raise his brows at the rest of us.
It bides its time in the best of us,
And well for him if he do not do
That which the strength of him wants him to.

DIAGNOSIS.

You have a grudge against the man
Who did the thing you couldn't do.
You hatched the scheme, you laid the plan,
And yet you couldn't push it through.
You strained your soul and couldn't win;
He gave a breath and it was easy.
You smile and swallow your chagrin,
But, oh, the swallow makes you queasy.

I know your illness, for, you see,
The diet never pleases me.

Your dearest friend has made a strike,
Has placed his mark above the crowd,
Has won the thing which _you_ would like
And you are glad for him, and proud.
Your tongue is swift, your cheek is red,
If some one speak to his detraction,
And yet, the fact the thing is said
Affords you half a satisfaction.

I see the workings of your mind
Because my own is so inclined.

You tell me fame is hollow squeak,
You say that wealth is carking care;
And to live care-free a single week
Is more than years of work and wear.
Alexander weeps his highest place,
Diogenes is happy sunning!
What matters it who wins the race
So you have had the joy of running?

And yet, you covet prize and pelf.
I know it, for I do, myself.

SPREAD OUT.

In politics I'm a--never mind,
And you are a--I don't care,
But, anyway, I am rather inclined
To suspect we are both unfair;
For I have called you a coward and slave
And you have dubbed me a fool and knave.

(Yet, perhaps I was right, for you surely abused
The right of free speech in the names you used!)

In business you figure--a profit, I guess,
And I charge you--as much as I dare,
And I grumble that you ought to do it for less,
And you ask if my price is fair.
But if _I_ sold your goods and _you_ sold mine,
I doubt if the prices would much decline.

(Though I must insist that I think I see
Where you'd still have a little advantage of me!)

In religion you are a--who cares what?
And I am a--what's the odds?
So why have I sneered at your holiest thought,
And why have you jeered at my gods?
F