Collected Works (Vol. II)

154 THE SWORD OF SONG My own vague optimism. Im- possibility of tracing cause back or effect forward to the ultimate. Ethics individual. Exactly ! Grown my mental stature, I ponder much: but never yet © Can I get over or forget That bitter text’s accursed nature, The subtle devilish omission,*” The cruel antithesis implied, The irony, the curse-fruition, The calm assumption of Hell’s fevers As fit, as just, for unbelievers— These are the things that stick beside And hamper my quite serious wish To harbour kind thoughts of the “ Fish.” °8 Here goes my arrow to the gold! I’ll make no magpies! Though I hold Your Christianity a lie, Abortion and iniquity, The most immoral and absurd — —(A priest’s invention, in a word)— Of all religions, I have hope In the good Dhamma’s ® wider scope, Nay, certainty ! that all_at last, However came they. in the past, Move, up or down—who knows, my friend ?— But yet with no uncertain trend Unto Nibbana.in the.end. I do not even dare despise | Your doctrines, prayers, and ceremonies ! Far from the word “you'll go to hell !” I] dare not say“ you do not well!” I must obey my own mind’s laws, Accept its limits, seek its cause : My meat may be your poison! I Hope to convert you by-and-by? Never! I cannot trace the chain That brought us here, shall part again Our lives— perchance for aye! I bring My hand down on this table- thing,*! And that commotion widens thus And shakes the nerves of Sirius ! To calculate one hours result I find surpassing difficult ; 380 385 390 395 400 405 410 415