The Winged Beetle

THE GOD AND THE GIRL 77 “ World without end, Amen, I see no germ Of life to make such dung evolve a worm. “ Use her, a poisonous purge that irritates The clogged-up bowel till it evacuates ; “ For so it may be thou shalt ease thy brain. But dung she is, and dung she must remain.” Thus then with proud humility the younger Answered that holy ancient Wisdom-monger : “ The Way grows clear as crystal to my ken. Let me to teach this alchemy to men.” “ Do ! ” answered He, “ and learn. The race shall rage Through to the blackness of the Dragon-stage : “ Few may pass on.” The younger God essayed The scheme—and a nice mess of it he made ! So that—or trousers, petticoats, or tights Hide what makes honest men turn sodomites. Hence our joints ache, and life is out of joint— All ways we turn we stumble over coynte, Slip in the slime, and sicken at the stench Of English widow, wanton, wife, and wench.