Poems of James Clarence Mangan (Many hitherto uncollected): Centenary edition: Edited, with preface and notes by D. J. O'Donoghue: Introduction by John Mitchel |
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THE METEMPSYCHOSIS. |
 | Poems of James Clarence Mangan |  |
THE METEMPSYCHOSIS.
I've studied sundry treatises by spectacled old sages
Anent the capabilities and nature of the soul, and
Its vagabond propensities from even the earliest ages,
As harped on by Spinosa, Plato, Leibnitz, Chubb and Toland;
But of all systems I've yet met, or p'rhaps shall ever meet with,
Not one can hold a candle to (videlicet, compete with)
The theory of theories Pythagoras proposes,
And called by that profound old snudge (in Greek) Metempsychosis.
Anent the capabilities and nature of the soul, and
Its vagabond propensities from even the earliest ages,
As harped on by Spinosa, Plato, Leibnitz, Chubb and Toland;
But of all systems I've yet met, or p'rhaps shall ever meet with,
Not one can hold a candle to (videlicet, compete with)
The theory of theories Pythagoras proposes,
And called by that profound old snudge (in Greek) Metempsychosis.
314
It seems to me a pos'tive truth, admitting of no modi-
Fication, that the human soul, accustomed to a lodging
Inside a carnal tenement, must, when it quits one body,
Instead of sailing to and fro, and profitlessly dodging
About from post to pillar without either pause or purpose,
Seek out a habitation in some other cozy corpus,
And when, by luck, it pops on one with which its habits match, box
Itself therein instanter, like a sentry in a watch-box.
Fication, that the human soul, accustomed to a lodging
Inside a carnal tenement, must, when it quits one body,
Instead of sailing to and fro, and profitlessly dodging
About from post to pillar without either pause or purpose,
Seek out a habitation in some other cozy corpus,
And when, by luck, it pops on one with which its habits match, box
Itself therein instanter, like a sentry in a watch-box.
This may be snapped at, sneered at, sneezed at. Deuce may care for cavils.
Reason is reason. Credit me, I've met at least one myriad
Of instances to prop me up. I've seen (upon my travels)
Foxes who had been lawyers at (no doubt) some former period.
Innumerable apes, who, though they'd lost their patronymics,
I recognised immediately as mountebanks and mimics,
And asses, calves, etcet'ra, whose rough bodies gave asylum
To certain souls, the property of learn'd professors whilome.
Reason is reason. Credit me, I've met at least one myriad
Of instances to prop me up. I've seen (upon my travels)
Foxes who had been lawyers at (no doubt) some former period.
Innumerable apes, who, though they'd lost their patronymics,
I recognised immediately as mountebanks and mimics,
And asses, calves, etcet'ra, whose rough bodies gave asylum
To certain souls, the property of learn'd professors whilome.
To go on with my catalogue: what will you bet I've seen a
Goose, that was reckoned in her day a pretty-faced young woman?
But more than that, I knew at once a bloody-lipped hyena
To've been a Russian Marshal, or an ancient Emperor (Roman)
All snakes and vipers, toads and reptiles, crocodiles and crawlers
I set down as court sycophants or hypocritic bawlers,
And there I may've been right or wrong—but nothing can be truer
Than this, that in a scorpion I beheld a vile reviewer.
Goose, that was reckoned in her day a pretty-faced young woman?
315
To've been a Russian Marshal, or an ancient Emperor (Roman)
All snakes and vipers, toads and reptiles, crocodiles and crawlers
I set down as court sycophants or hypocritic bawlers,
And there I may've been right or wrong—but nothing can be truer
Than this, that in a scorpion I beheld a vile reviewer.
So far we've had no stumbling-block. But now a puzzling question
Arises: all the afore-named souls were souls of stunted stature,
Contemptible or cubbish—but Pythag. has no suggestion
Concerning whither transmigrate souls noble in their nature,
As Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Schiller—these now, for example,
What temple can be found for such appropriately ample?
Where lodge they now? Not, certes, in our present ninnyhammers,
Who mumble rhymes that seem to've been concocted by their Gammers.
Arises: all the afore-named souls were souls of stunted stature,
Contemptible or cubbish—but Pythag. has no suggestion
Concerning whither transmigrate souls noble in their nature,
As Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Schiller—these now, for example,
What temple can be found for such appropriately ample?
Where lodge they now? Not, certes, in our present ninnyhammers,
Who mumble rhymes that seem to've been concocted by their Gammers.
Well, then, you see, it comes to this—and after huge reflection
Here's what I say: A soul that gains, by many transmigrations,
The summit, apex, pinnacle, or acmé of perfection,
There ends, concludes and terminates its earthly per'grinations.
Then, like an air-balloon, it mounts through high Olympus' portals,
And cuts its old connections with Mortality and mortals;
And evidence to back me here I don't know any stronger
Than that the truly Great and Good are found on Earth no longer.
Here's what I say: A soul that gains, by many transmigrations,
The summit, apex, pinnacle, or acmé of perfection,
There ends, concludes and terminates its earthly per'grinations.
Then, like an air-balloon, it mounts through high Olympus' portals,
316
And evidence to back me here I don't know any stronger
Than that the truly Great and Good are found on Earth no longer.
| Poems of James Clarence Mangan | |