Shapes of Clay

Each to his taste: some men prefer to play

At mystery, as others at piquet.

Some sit in mystic meditation; some

Parade the street with tambourine and drum.

One studies to decipher ancient lore

Which, proving stuff, he studies all the more;

Another swears that learning is but good

To darken things already understood,

Then writes upon Simplicity so well

That none agree on what he wants to tell,

And future ages will declare his pen

Inspired by gods with messages to men.

To found an ancient order those devote

Their time—with ritual, regalia, goat,

Blankets for tossing, chairs of little ease

And all the modern inconveniences;

These, saner, frown upon unmeaning rites

And go to church for rational delights.

So all are suited, shallow and profound,

The prophets prosper and the world goes round.

For me—unread in the occult, I'm fain

To damn all mysteries alike as vain,

Spurn the obscure and base my faith upon

The Revelations of the good St. John.

1897.