Shapes of Clay

Says Anderson, Theosophist:

"Among the many that exist

In modern halls,

Some lived in ancient Egypt's clime

And in their childhood saw the prime

Of Karnak's walls."

Ah, Anderson, if that is true

'T is my conviction, sir, that you

Are one of those

That once resided by the Nile,

Peer to the sacred Crocodile,

Heir to his woes.

My judgment is, the holy Cat

Mews through your larynx (and your hat)

These many years.

Through you the godlike Onion brings

Its melancholy sense of things,

And moves to tears.

In you the Bull divine again

Bellows and paws the dusty plain,

To nature true.

I challenge not his ancient hate

But, lowering my knurly pate,

Lock horns with you.

And though Reincarnation prove

A creed too stubborn to remove,

And all your school

Of Theosophs I cannot scare—

All the more earnestly I swear

That you're a fool.

You'll say that this is mere abuse

Without, in fraying you, a use.

That's plain to see

With only half an eye. Come, now,

Be fair, be fair,—consider how

It eases me!