 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
776
THE LAST REVELATION.
We live in curious times, and even the fool
Who has his private pew
In earth or Heaven, and nothing learned at school,
Can scratch about and mew;
He has his fancies, which he only took
From some yet greater dunce,
Who with judicious extracts made a book,
And was quite famous once;
He thinks, because he deals with shining shams
And all the painted muck
That sells, God sends him special telegrams,
And goldmines he has struck.
Who has his private pew
In earth or Heaven, and nothing learned at school,
Can scratch about and mew;
He has his fancies, which he only took
From some yet greater dunce,
Who with judicious extracts made a book,
And was quite famous once;
He thinks, because he deals with shining shams
And all the painted muck
That sells, God sends him special telegrams,
And goldmines he has struck.
The revelation came of old, on wings
Of awful searching fire,
Not to the gorgeous palaces of kings,
But to the pure desire.
It came, to those that opened simple heart
For every sacred truth,
And of their life it grew a living part,
And gave them endless youth;
It came with breath of recreating power,
In beauty that was love,
Till each new nature burst in glorious flower,
And glowed from founts above.
Of awful searching fire,
Not to the gorgeous palaces of kings,
But to the pure desire.
It came, to those that opened simple heart
For every sacred truth,
And of their life it grew a living part,
And gave them endless youth;
It came with breath of recreating power,
In beauty that was love,
Till each new nature burst in glorious flower,
And glowed from founts above.
But, now, the driveller has his idols cheap,
And fashions by the score,
From cast-off harlots, and the rubbish heap
That beggars seek no more;
The scavenger has gone abroad, and waves
His banner dropping lice,
And steals the worms and carrion from the graves
Of each old buried vice;
He seeks in sewers fresh gospels dupes to bless,
Or crawls among the clods
And digs in dunghills for the nastiest mess,
Then cries, “Behold your gods!”
And fashions by the score,
From cast-off harlots, and the rubbish heap
That beggars seek no more;
The scavenger has gone abroad, and waves
His banner dropping lice,
And steals the worms and carrion from the graves
Of each old buried vice;
He seeks in sewers fresh gospels dupes to bless,
Or crawls among the clods
And digs in dunghills for the nastiest mess,
Then cries, “Behold your gods!”
The women, too, if maidens, do not blush
To take the Devil's text,
And screaming, scolding, into print they rush,
All naked and unsexed;
Each has some doctrine suited for the age,
And inspiration draws
From lowest orgies of the lowest stage,
From breaking zones and laws;
And, though upon the sullied marriage tie
They cast a poet's wreath,
Their revelation of such lusts and lies
Is only from beneath.
To take the Devil's text,
And screaming, scolding, into print they rush,
All naked and unsexed;
Each has some doctrine suited for the age,
And inspiration draws
From lowest orgies of the lowest stage,
From breaking zones and laws;
And, though upon the sullied marriage tie
They cast a poet's wreath,
Their revelation of such lusts and lies
Is only from beneath.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |