JOURNAL AND PROCEEDINGS. 
Said generous Rob, ‘what need of books ? 
Burn all the statutes and their shelves ; 
They stir us up against our kind ; 
And worse, against ourselves. 
We have a passion—make a law. 
Too false to guide us or control ! 
And for the law itself we fight, 
In bitterness of soul. 
And puzzled, blinded, thus we lose 
Distinctions that are plain and few ; 
These find I graven on my heart, 
That tells me what to do. 
The creatures see of flood and field, 
And those that travel on the wind ! 
With them no strife can last ; they live 
In peace and peace of mind. 
For why ? because the good old rule 
Sufficeth them, the simple plan 
That they should take who have the power, 
And they should keep who can. 
A lesson that is quickly learned, 
A signal this which all can see ; 
Thus nothing here provokes the strong 
To wanton cruelty. 
All kinds and creatures stand and fall 
By strength of prowess or of wit : 
’Tis God’s appointment who must sway, 
And who is to submit. 
Since then the rule of right is plain, 
And longest life is but a day ; 
To have my ends, maintain my rights, 
T’ll take the shortest way.’ 
And thus among these rocks he lived, 
Through summer heat and winter snow ; 
The Eagle, he was lord above ; 
And Rob was lord below. 
So was it —zwoz/d at least have been 
But through untowardness of fate ; 
For polity was then too strong— 
He came an age too late. 
And had it been thy lot to live 
With us who now behold the light, 
Thou would’st have nobly stirred thyself 
And battled for the right. 
For thou wert still the poor man’s stay, 
The poor man’s heart, the poor man’s hand, 
And all the oppressed, who wanted strength, 
Had thine at their command.” 
