XIV Cupiditas Puerilis

(Boyish Passion)
A thousand does there are, a thousand maids,
And yet there are a hundred fit for me,
I set my sights on one, of sight and age,
That pleases all my fancy and dismay.
For as I do advance, she flees away-
Or as I choose to act, another has-
Must always my desire be at bay,
When all my hope and misery are hers?
With anguish'd heart, I draw myself away,
With bleeding soul, I dare accept the truth-
I choose again, another comely maid,
To find her gone from me, oh horrid youth!
I either long for treasure far too vast,
Or for despair and sorrow to the last!
-Vir Cogitans Americanus
Scribit Dies XVII Septembris, Anno Domini MMVII

V Admonitum

(The Warning)
Oh rise the mighty chorus of- the boy.
Behold the throne of stately- mistresses.
Do honor noble men who now grow- coy,
Do listen to the scholar’s wise- guesses.
The insecure will have the final say,
They cry the most when victors do succeed,
And so they fight to sanctify their play,
And fight nobility- now christened “greed.”
The truly noble man will never rise-
The insecure will ever hamper him-
His name will be forgotten when he dies,
Because the world seeks only mindless whim.
The menace which the Founding Fathers feared-
The mass’s tyranny seems ever near.
-Vir Cogitans Americanus
Scribit Dies VIII Iunii, Anno Domini MMVII