TO A WEALTHY MAN WHO PROMISED A SECOND SUBSCRIPTION TO THE DUBLIN MUNICIPAL
 GALLERY IF IT WERE PROVED THE PEOPLE WANTED PICTURES
 
 YOU gave, but will not give again
 Until enough of paudeen's pence
 By Biddy's halfpennies have lain
 To be "some sort of evidence',
 Before you'll put your guineas down,
 That things it were a pride to give
 Are what the blind and ignorant town
 Imagines best to make it thrive.
 What cared Duke Ercole, that bid
 His mummers to the market-place,
 What th' onion-sellers thought or did
 So that his plautus set the pace
 For the Italian comedies?
 And Guidobaldo, when he made
 That grammar school of courtesies
 Where wit and beauty learned their trade
 Upon Urbino's windy hill,
 Had sent no runners to and fro
 That he might learn the shepherds' will
 And when they drove out Cosimo,
 Indifferent how the rancour ran,
 He gave the hours they had set free
 To Michelozzo's latest plan
 For the San Marco Library,
 Whence turbulent Italy should draw
 Delight in Art whoSe end is peace,
 In logic and in natural law
 By sucking at the dugs of Greece.
 Your open hand but shows our loss,
 For he knew better how to live.
 Let paudeens play at pitch and toss,
 Look up in the sun's eye and give
 What the exultant heart calls good
 That some new day may breed the best
 Because you gave, not what they would,
 But the right twigs for an eagle's nest!
 December