SONG OF THE POCO-CURANTE SOCIETY.

To those we love we've drank tonight;

But now attend and stare not,

While I the ampler list recite

Of those for whom WE CARE NOT.

For royal men, howe'er they frown,

If on their fronts they bear not

That noblest gem that decks a crown,

The People's Love — WE CARE NOT.

For slavish men who bend beneath

A despot yoke, yet dare not

Pronounce the will whose very breath

Would rend its links — WE CARE NOT.

For priestly men who covet sway

And wealth, tho’ they declare not;

Who point, like finger-posts, the way

They never go — WE CARE NOT.

For martial men who on their sword,

Howe'er it conquers, wear not

The pledges of a soldier's word,

Redeemed and pure — WE CARE NOT.

For legal men who plead for wrong.

And, tho’ to lies they swear not,

Are hardly better than the throng

Of those who do — WE CARE NOT.

For courtly men who feed upon

The land, like grubs, and spare not

The smallest leaf where they can sun

Their crawling limbs — WE CARE NOT.

For wealthy men who keep their mines

In darkness hid, and share not

The paltry ore with him who pines

In honest want — WE CARE NOT.

For prudent men who hold the power

Of Love aloof, and bare not

Their hearts in any guardless hour

To Beauty's shaft — WE CARE NOT.

For all, in short, on land or sea,

In camp or court, who are not,

Who never were, or e'er will be

Good men and true — WE CARE NOT.