THE SWORD OF SONG 
58
“Science and Buddhism,” 
infra, for a full 
discussion of this point. 
518.  And.67—Note the correct stress upon 
this word.  Previously, Mr. W. S. Gilbert has 
done this in his superb lines : 
“ Except the plot of freehold land 
That held the cot, and Mary, and—” 
But his demonstration is vitiated by the bad 
iambic “and Ma-” ; unless 
indeed the juxta-
position is intentional, as exposing the sophis-
tries of our official prosodists. 
548. The heathen.68—“The wicked shall be 
turned into hell,  and all the nations that forget 
God.” 
580. Satan and Judas.69—At the moment of 
passing the final proofs I am informed that the 
character of Judas has been 
rehabilitated by  
Mr. Stead (and rightly: is 
Mr. Abington*  
paid with a rope ? ) and the defence of Satan 
undertaken by a young society lady authoress 
—a Miss C orelli—who represents him as an 
Angel of Light, i.e. one who has been intro-
duced to the Prince of Wales. 
But surely  there  is  some  one  w ho is the 
object 
of universal reprobation among 
Christians ?  Permit me to offer myself as a 
candidate.   
Sink, I beseech you, these sectarian 
differences, and combine to declare me at least 
Anathema Maranatha. 
602. Pangs of Death.70—Dr. Maudsley de-
mands a panegyric upon Death.  It is true 
 
that evolution may bring us a moral sense of 
astonishing delicacy and beauty.  But we are 
not there yet.  A talented but debauched 
Irishman has composed the following, which 
 
I can deplore, but not refute, for 
this type  
of man is probably more prone 
to repro- 
duce his species than any other.  He called 
 
it “Summa Spes.” 
 
I. 
Existence being sorrow, 
The cause of it deisre, 
A merry tune I borrow 
To light upon the lyre : 
If death destroy me quite,  
Then, I cannot lament it ; 
I’ve lived, kept life alight, 
And—damned if I repent it ! 
Let me die in a ditch, 
Damnably drunk, 
Or lipping a punk, 
Or in bed with a bitch ! 
I was ever a hog ; 
Muck ?  I am one with it ! 
Let me die like a dog ; 
Die, and be done with it ! 
 
* Famous Adelphi villain. 
II. 
As far as reason goes, 
There’s hope for mortals yet : 
When nothing is that knows, 
What is there to regret ? 
Our consciousness depends 
On matter in the brain ; 
When that rots out, and ends, 
There ends the hour of pain. 
 
III. 
If we can trust to this, 
Why, dance and drink and revel ! 
Great scarlet mouths to kiss, 
And sorrow to the devil ! 
If pangs ataxic creep, 
Or gout, or stone, annoy us, 
Queen Morphia, grant thy sleep ! 
Let worms, the dears, enjoy us ! 
 
IV. 
But since a chance remains 
That “I” surives the body 
(So talk the men whose brains 
Are made of smut and shoddy), 
I’ll stop it if I can. 
(Ah Jesus, if Thou couldest !) 
I’ll go to Martaban 
To make myself a Buddhist. 
 
V. 
And yet : the bigger chance 
Lies with annihilation. 
Follow the lead of France, 
Freedom’s enlightened nation ! 
Off ! sacredotal stealth 
Of faith and fraud and gnosis ! 
Come, drink me :  Here’s thy health, 
Arterio-sclerosis !* 
 
Let me die in a ditch, 
Damnably drunk, 
Or lipping a punk, 
Or in bed with a bitch ! 
I was ever a hog ; 
Muck ?  I am one with it ! 
Let me die like a dog ; 
Die, and be done with it ! 
 
616.  A lizard.71—A short account of the 
genesis of these poems seems not out of place 
here.  The design of an elaborate parody on 
 
 
* The hardening of the arteries, which is the 
pre-disposing cause of senile decay ; thus taken as 
the one positive assurance of death.