James Clarence Mangan

"Traverse not the globe for lore! The sternest But the surest teacher is the heart; Studying that and that alone, thou learnest Best and soonest whence and what thou art.Time, not travel, tis which gives us ready Speech, experience, prudence, tact, and wit: Far more light the lamp that bideth steady Than the wandering lantern doth emit.Moor, Chinese, Egyptian, Russian, Roman, Tread one common down-hill path of doom; Everywhere the names are man and woman, Everywhere the old sad sins find room.Evil angels tempt us in all places. What but sands or snows hath earth to give? Dream not, friend, of deserts and oases; But look inwards, and begin to live."

"Veil not thy mirror, sweet Amine, Till night shall also veil each star! Thou seest a twofold marvel there: The only face so fair as thine, The only eyes that, near or far, Can gaze on thine without despair."

"In Siberia’s wastes The ice-wind’s breath Woundeth like the toothèd steel; Lost Siberia doth reveal Only blight and death.Blight and death alone. No Summer shines. Night is interblent with Day. In Siberia’s wastes alway The blood blackens, the heart pines.In Siberia’s wastes No tears are shed, For they freeze within the brain. Naught is felt but dullest pain, Pain acute, yet dead;Pain as in a dream, When years go by Funeral-paced, yet fugitive, When man lives, and doth not live, Doth not live—nor die.In Siberia’s wastes Are sands and rocks. Nothing blooms of green or soft, But the snow-peaks rise aloft And the gaunt ice-blocks.And the exile there Is one with those; They are part, and he is part, For the sands are in his heart, And the killing snows.Therefore, in those wastes None curse the Czar. Each man’s tongue is cloven by The North Blast, who heweth nigh With sharp scymitar.And such doom each drees, Till, hunger-gnawn, And cold-slain, he at length sinks there, Yet scarce more a corpse than ere His last breath was drawn."

"To this khan, and from this khan How many pilgrims came and went too! In this khan, and by this khan What arts were spent, what hearts were rent too! To this khan and from this khan (Which, for penance, man is sent to) Many a van and caravan Crowded came, and shrouded went too. Christian man and Mussulman, Guebre, heathen, Jew, and Gentoo, To this khan, and from this khan, Weeping came, and sleeping went too. A riddle this since time began, Which many a sage his mind hath bent to: All came, all went; but never man Knew whence they came, or where they went to!"