Collected Works (Vol. II)

150 THE SWORD OF SONG Lord George Sanger * on the Unknowable. How the crea- tures talk. He tells me when I cite the “ Fall” ‘‘ But those are legends, after all.” He has a hundred hills * to he in, But finds no final ditch * to die in. ‘“* Samuel was man ; the Holy Spook Did not dictate the Pentateuch.” With cunning feint he lures me on To loose my pompoms on Saint John ; And, that hill being shelled, doth swear His forces never had been there. I got disgusted, called a parley, (Here comes a white-flag treachery !) Asked: “ Is there anything you value, Will hold to?” He laughed, “‘ Chase me, Charlie !” But seeing in his mind that I , Would not be so converted, ‘* Shall you,” He added, “ grope in utter dark? The Book of Acts and that of Mark Are now considered genuine.” I snatch a Testament, begin Reading at random the first page ;— He stops me with a gesture sage : “You must not think, because I say St. Mark is genuine, I would lay Such stress unjust upon its text, As base thereon opinion. Next?” I gave itup. Heescaped. Ah me! But so did Christianity. As for a quiet talk on physics sane ac Lente, I hear the British Don Spout sentiments more bovine than a sane yak Ever would ruminate upon, Half Sabbatarian and half Khakimaniac, Built up from Paul and John, With not a little tincture of Leviticus Gabbled pro formé, jaldi,t A la Psittacus To aid the appalling hotch-potch ; lyre and lute Replaced by liar and loot, the harp and flute * Proprietor of a circus and menagerie. + Hindustani: quickly. 220 225 230 240 255