THE SWORD OF SONG 
8
He tells me when I cite the “Fall” 
“But those are legends after all.” 
He has a hundred hills45 to lie in, 
But finds no final ditch46 to die in. 
“Samuel was man ; the Holy Spook 
Did not dictate the Pentateuch.” 
With cunning feint he lures me on 
To loose my pompoms on Saint John ; 
And, that hill being shelled, doth swear 
His forces never had been there. 
I got disgusted, called a parley, 
(Here comes a white-flag treachery !) 
Asked : “Is there anything you value, 
Will hold to ?”  He laughed, “Chase me, Charlie !” 
But seeing in his mind that I 
Would no be so converted, “Shall you,”  
He added, “grope in utter dark ? 
The Book of Acts and that of Mark 
Are now considered genuine.” 
I snatch a Testament, begin 
Reading at random the first page ;— 
He stops me with a gesture sage : 
“You must not think, because I say 
St. Mark is genuine, I would lay 
Such stress unjust upon its text, 
As base thereon opinion.  Next ?” 
I gave it up.  He escaped.  Ah me ! 
But do did Christianity. 
 
 
As for a quiet talk on physics sane ac 
Lente, I hear the British Don 
Spout sentiments more bovine than a sane yak250 
Ever would ruminate upon, 
Half Sabbatarian and half Khakimaniac, 
Built up from Paul and John, 
With not a little tincture of Leviticus 
Gabbled pro formâ, jaldi,† à la Psittacus 
To aid the appalling hotch-potch ; lyre and lute 
Replaced by liar and loot, the harp and flute 
* Proprietor of a circus and menagerie. 
† Hindustani : quickly. 
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Lord George 
Sanger* on the 
Unknowable. 
How the crea-
tures talk.