Part 19 (1/2)

x.x.xIV.

_HYPOCRITES._

_Nessun ti venne a dir._

Who comes and saith: 'A Tyrant, lo, am I!'

And, 'I am Antichrist!' what man will swear?

The crafty rogue, hiding his poisonous ware, Sells you what slays your soul, for sanct.i.ty.

Cheats, brigands, prost.i.tutes, and all that fry, Not having fas.h.i.+oned so devout a snare, Appear worse sinners than perhaps they are; For where the craft's small, small's the villainy; You're on your guard. The meek Samaritan Makes way before those guileful Pharisees, Though G.o.d a.s.signed to him the higher place.

Not words nor wonders prove a virtuous man, But deeds and acts. How many deities Hath this false standard given the human race!

x.x.xV.

_SOPHISTS._

_Nessun ti verra a dire._

'Behold, I am a Sophist!' no man saith.

But the true sons of perfidy refined Forge theologic lies the soul to blind, Calling themselves evangels of the faith.

Aretine with his scoundrels blew his breath, And in the cynic orgies boldly joined; His ribald jests had flowers and thorns combined-- A frank fair list including life and death, For fun, not fraud. It shames him to be found Less vile than those who cannot bear to see Their sink of filth laid open to the ground: Wherefore they shut our mouths, our books impound, Garble with lies each sentence that may be Cited to prove their foul hypocrisy.

x.x.xVI.

_AGAINST HYPOCRITES._

_Gli affetti di Pluton._

Deep in their hearts they hide the l.u.s.ts of h.e.l.l: Christ's name is written on their brow, that those Who only view the husk, may not suppose What guile and malice harbour in the sh.e.l.l.

O G.o.d! O Wisdom! Holy Fervour! Well Of strength invincible to strike Thy foes!

Give me the force--my spirit burns and glows-- To strip those idols and to break their spell!

The zeal I bear unto Thy name benign, The love I feel for truth sincere and pure, When such men triumph, make me rend my hair.

How long shall folk this infamy endure-- That _he_ should be held sacred, _he_ divine, Who strips e'en corpses in the graveyard bare?

x.x.xVII.

_ON THE LORD'S PRAYER._

No. I.

_Vilissima progenie._