Good Novel
Stripped to loin-cloth in the sun,
Search me well and watch me close!
Tell me how my tricks are done,
Tell me how the mango grows!
Give a man who is not made
To his trade
Swords to fling and catch again,
Coins to ring and snatch again,
Men to harm and cure again,
Snakes to charm and lure again,
He'll be hurt by his own blade,
By his serpents disobeyed,
By his clumsiness bewrayed,
By the people laughed to scorn,
So 'tis not with juggler born!
Pinch of dust or withered flower,