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Daily Trials by a Sensitive Man

Written by: Oliver Wendell Holmes | Biography
 | Quotes (200) |
 Oh, there are times 
When all this fret and tumult that we hear 
Do seem more stale than to the sexton's ear 
His own dull chimes. 
Ding dong! ding dong! 
The world is in a simmer like a sea 
Over a pent volcano, -- woe is me 
All the day long! 
From crib to shroud! 
Nurse o'er our cradles screameth lullaby, 
And friends in boots tramp round us as we die, 
Snuffling aloud. 

At morning's call 
The small-voiced pug-dog welcomes in the sun, 
And flea-bit mongrels, wakening one by one, 
Give answer all. 

When evening dim 
Draws round us, then the lonely caterwaul, 
Tart solo, sour duet, and general squall, -- 
These are our hymn. 

Women, with tongues 
Like polar needles, ever on the jar; 
Men, plugless word-spouts, whose deep fountains are 
Within their lungs. 

Children, with drums 
Strapped round them by the fond paternal ass; 
Peripatetics with a blade of grass 
Between their thumbs. 

Vagrants, whose arts 
Have caged some devil in their mad machine, 
Which grinding, squeaks, with husky groans between, 
Come out by starts. 

Cockneys that kill 
Thin horses of a Sunday, -- men, with clams, 
Hoarse as young bisons roaring for their dams 
From hill to hill. 

Soldiers, with guns, 
Making a nuisance of the blessed air, 
Child-crying bellman, children in despair, 
Screeching for buns. 

Storms, thunders, waves! 
Howl, crash, and bellow till ye get your fill; 
Ye sometimes rest; men never can be still 
But in their graves.



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