The World’s Tragedy

XL PROEM. The austerities of Loyola ? to seek ! But — let us have a “ self-denial week ” ! The raptures of Teresa are hysteric ; But — let us giggle at some fulsome cleric ! “ The age refines ! You lag behind.” God knows ! Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. That Crowley knows you as you are — that frets. He buys not doctored dung for violets ! Your smug content, your Puritan surprise, All lies, and lies ; all lies, and lies, and lies ! Pathics from Eton, ever on their knees, Amazed at their twin brothers the Chinese ! Pathics from Harrow, reeking of Patchouli, Shocked at the vice of the Mongolian coolie ! Canons of Westminster, with boy-rape sterile, Hope Christ may save us from the Yellow Peril ! To call forced labour slavery is rude, “ Terminologic inexactitude ”. This from the masters of the winds and waves Whose cotton-mills are crammed with British slaves ! Men pass their nights with German-Jewish whores, Their days in keeping “ aliens ” from our shores. They turn their eyes up at a Gautier’s tale, And run a maisonette in Maida Vale.