As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race, |
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place. |
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall, |
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all. |
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We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn |
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn: |
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind, |
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the |
March of Mankind. |
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We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace, |
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the gods of the Market-Place; |
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently |
word would come |
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights |
had gone out in Rome. |
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With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch. |
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch. |
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings. |
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised |
these beautiful things. |
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When the Cambrian measures were forming, They |
promised perpetual peace. |
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of |
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But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe, |
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: «Stick to |
the Devil you know.» |
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On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life |
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife) |
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith, |
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: «The Wages |
of Sin is Death.» |
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In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all, |
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul; |
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing |
our money could buy, |
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: «If you don’ work you die.» |
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Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smoothtongued wizards withdrew, |
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to |
believe it was true |
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four - |
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to |
explain it once more. |
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As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man - |
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began: - |
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire, |
And the burnt Fool’s bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire; |
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When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins, |
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn, |
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return! |