K

LX

And, strange to tell, among that Earthen Lot
Some could articulate, while others not:

And suddenly one more impatient cried —
"Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?"

LXI

Then said another-"Surely not in vain.

"My Substance from the common Earth was ta’en,
"That He who subtly wrought me into Shape
"Should stamp me back to common Earth again.”

LXII

Another said "Why, ne'er a peevish Boy,

"Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy;

"Shall He that made the Vessel in pure Love "And Fansy, in an after Rage destroy!"

(See Stanza LXXXVII.)

LXXXIII

Shapes of all Sorts and Sizes, great and small,
That stood along the floor and by the wall;

And some loquacious vessels were; and some
Listen'd perhaps, but never talk'd at all.

LXXXIV

Said one among them-"Surely not in vain
My substance of the common Earth was ta'en
And to this Figure moulded, to be broke,
Or trampled back to shapeless Earth again.

LXXXV

Then said a Second —“Ne'er a peevish Boy

'Would break the Bowl from which he drank in joy;

"And He that with his hand the Vessel made

"Will surely not in after Wrath destroy."

茶

六

LXIII

None answer'd this; but after Silence spake

A Vessel of a more ungainly Make:

་་

"They sneer at me for leaning all awry;

What did the Hand then of the Potter shake?"

(See Stanza LX.)

LXIV

Said one-"Folks of a surly Tapster tell,
"And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell;
"They talk of some strict Testing of us - Pish!
"He's a Good Fellow, and 't will all be well."

LXV

Then said another with a long-drawn Sigh,
"My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry:

"But, fill me with the old familiar Juice,

"Methinks I might recover by-and-bye!"

术

LXXXVI

After a momentary silence spake

Some Vessel of a more ungainly make:

"They sneer at me for leaning all awry: "What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?”

LXXXVII

Whereat some one of the loquacious Lot
I think a Súfi pipkin -waxing hot-

"All this of Pot and Potter-Tell me then, "Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?"

LXXXVIII

"Why," said another, "Some there are who tell
"Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell

"The luckless Pots he marr'd in making- Pish! "He's a Good Fellow, and 't will all be well."

A

LXXXIX

"Well," murmur'd one, "Let whoso make or buy,

My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry:

"But fill me with the old familiar Juice, "Methinks I might recover by and by."

LXVI

So while the Vessels one by one were speaking,
One spied the little Crescent all were seeking:

And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! Brother! "Hark to the Porter's Shoulder-knot a-creaking!"

LXVII

Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide,
And wash my Body whence the Life has died,
And in the Windingsheet of Vine-leaf wrapt,
So bury me by some sweet Garden-side.

LXVIII

That ev'n my buried Ashes such a Snare
Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air,
As not a True Believer passing by
But shall be overtaken unaware.