Here's an example from
A Butterfly;
That on a rough, hard rock
Happy can lie;
Friendless and all alone
On this unsweetened stone.
Now let my bed be hard,
No care take I;
I'll make my joy like this
Small Butterfly;
Whose happy heart has power
To make a stone a flower.
_Hilaire Belloc_
Hilaire Belloc, who has been described as "a Frenchman, an Englishman,
an Oxford man, a country gentleman, a soldier, a satirist, a democrat,
a novelist, and a practical journalist," was born July 27, 1870. After
leaving school he served as a driver in the 8th Regiment of French
Artillery at Toul Meurthe-et-Moselle, being at that time a French
citizen. He was naturalized as a British subject somewhat later, and
in 1906 he entered the House of Commons as Liberal Member for South
Salford.
As an author, he has engaged in multiple activities. He has written
three satirical novels, one of which, _Mr. Clutterbuck's Election_,
sharply exposes British newspapers and underground politics. His _Path
to Rome_ (1902) is a high-spirited and ever-delightful travel book
which has passed through many editions. His historical studies and
biographies of _Robespierre_ and _Marie Antoinette_ (1909) are
classics of their kind. As a poet he is only somewhat less engaging.
His _Verses_ (1910) is a rather brief collection of poems on a wide
variety of themes. Although his humorous and burlesque stanzas are
refreshing, Belloc is most himself when he writes either of malt
liquor or his beloved Sussex. Though his religious poems are full of a
fine romanticism, "The South Country" is the most pictorial and
persuasive of his serious poems. His poetic as well as his spiritual
kinship with G. K. Chesterton is obvious.