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The book of the dead | ||
88
[XL. Against the words which current pass]
Against the words which current pass,
Whose wisdom even folly owns,
That he who keeps a house of glass
Should be the last at throwing stones;—
Whose wisdom even folly owns,
That he who keeps a house of glass
Should be the last at throwing stones;—
The fool who first attacked my dead,
Forgot his race's history,
Forgot the crystal o'er his head,
That show-case of their infamy.
Forgot his race's history,
Forgot the crystal o'er his head,
That show-case of their infamy.
I marvel, ere, in search of sin,
About the town he chose to roam,
His virtuous quest did not begin,
Like prudent Charity, at home.
About the town he chose to roam,
His virtuous quest did not begin,
Like prudent Charity, at home.
There, marked and ready for his eyes,
Is guilt no eloquence can gloze,
Which all men see, and none denies,
That stinks beneath the public nose;—
Is guilt no eloquence can gloze,
Which all men see, and none denies,
That stinks beneath the public nose;—
89
That rots and festers in the light,
To draw mankind's abhorrent stare;
That, in the very depths of night,
Glows with a foul putrescent glare.
To draw mankind's abhorrent stare;
That, in the very depths of night,
Glows with a foul putrescent glare.
Ere he set forth to scour the land,
And cleanse the dunghills of the earth,
He should have used his sweetening hand
About the mansion of his birth.
And cleanse the dunghills of the earth,
He should have used his sweetening hand
About the mansion of his birth.
Surely this modern Hercules,
In sallying, must have stumbled o'er
The loathsome heap that taints the breeze,
The common nuisance at his door.
In sallying, must have stumbled o'er
The loathsome heap that taints the breeze,
The common nuisance at his door.
Is virtue, like philosophy,
A showy saint, of mere parade,
Who flaunts an outside purity,
Yet lives at home an arrant jade?
A showy saint, of mere parade,
Who flaunts an outside purity,
Yet lives at home an arrant jade?
If he at whom this shaft is flown
Dare ask what name is here arraigned,
He is the only man in town
Who needs to have the thing explained.
Dare ask what name is here arraigned,
He is the only man in town
Who needs to have the thing explained.
The book of the dead | ||