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He conjures up the Universe,
Men bitter bad, and women worse.
The whole disgusting Pan is shown,
Filth from the spirit to the stone.
Read that! he yelled. Your eyeballs squint,
But That is surely plain as print.
It is, I said, for all to see
There is none other God than He.
THE STONE OF THE PHILOSOPHERS
51
And now the Devil strides and spins
Most furiously widdershins,
He causes two deceitful moons
To dance upon the driving dunes.
If all s illusion, gentle youth,
All is the enemy of Truth.
Where are you now? My worthy friend!
(I answered) take it to the end.
I do not think you prove it quite
That truth and lies are opposite.
But upon This we can agree:
There is none other God than He.
He wrote in flame upon the grass
This person is a perfect ass.
He vanished in a cloud of musk.
He sent the demons of the dusk
To ramp and rage about the links
To tease me Me, the stony Sphinx!
I smiled; I bent them to my will;
I set them dancing deosil,
And singing with seraphic glee
There is none other God than He.
The devil saw that he had failed,
He came back very draggle-tailed;
And, poised above me in the air,
Whined Mr. Sphinx, now, is it fair?
My business is to rack the bones
Of saints like you and Mr. Jones!
I m paid to accuse the brethren, sir!
I do not blame you, Lucifer.
I take my pleasure in your frown
Because you represent the Crown.
And all your prattle means to me:
There is none other God than He.
The Devil seemed to see the point.
Pleased that I did not say Aroint!
Pleased that in Asmodee I sight
Brave Lucifer, the Lord of Light,
Pleased with my Qabalistic pun
(Really a very clever one!),
Accepted all and none; became
A perfect vessel of the Flame.
He flapped his crooked and gloomy wing
And swore by God the Holy King
KONX OM PAX
52
That all his malice should confine
Itself to this one sin of mine
And this alone, when neophytes
(Confused by the excess of lights)
Perceive not what they ought to see:
There is none other God than He.
Oh how the good converted Fiend
Worries those Postulants unweaned!
Though now he dances deosil
He poinds them many a purging pill.
He cleans them from their piggish food;
He brings them to beatitude.
Hua is God! quoth Asmodee:
There is none other God than He.
A silence ensured. At last, from Denzil: you mean very much what the Hindus mean
by their doctrine of Maya?
Exactly so; but of course they cannot means what they say. The thinkable is false. All
our attempts to crystallize Truth in words are just as futile as the trickery by which the
artist gets his sunlight effects with some dull ochre. The impression s good enough,
maybe, at a distance, as an impression. Examine it close: it goes. God sees the clever
composition; man sees the untidy brushwork. So logic destroys our religions, despite
their truth.
But, said Denzil, surely it is better to get nearer truth. I hate all the evil that religion hs
wrought. As I looked on Granada and its cathedral, this is what I thought. Can you
blame me?
And from a little leathern pocket-book he began to read these lines:
ON A PROSPECT OF GRANADA CATHEDRAL FROM
THE ALHAMBRA
BROWN bloated toad that squattest in the sun!
Loose thankless mouth whose greed is never done!
Old spider waiting with thy web aspin
Till all Granada thou hast gathered in!
The blood of bulls and goats would satisfy
Of old the hellish thirst of the Most High.
Well at the worst Jehovah s altars smoke
And hiss with flesh of his own favoured folk.
But Thou, O Christ, dost glut thy lust refined
Upon the ravaged souls of all mankind.
An excellent photograph, said the big man. My own words just now were as strong, I
think. Yet the one answer answers all.
Arthur Grey broke in. You should hear the whole story, he said. Look at the inmost
as well as the middle. Under correction, sir (politely to the doctor), I find that human
THE STONE OF THE PHILOSOPHERS
53
beauty fades if we dissect the body. Yet your microscopist (in the first place) will find
the detail of blood beautiful, just as I its banners in my lady s face. And in the second
place, does the dissection table reveal all? Is there no spirit, lovely even to me, of
which my lady s bones and nerves are but the weak expression?
So strongly do I agree with you, returned the madman, that I have written a poem on
the unattractive subject of ovariotomy. It must not shock you; I am mad, and claim
the immunities of my limitations. I say nothing of your spirit theory; to me, ignorant
as I am, it seems easier to call a nerve God and so explain its functions, than to
imagine a God using that nerve as an instrument. We can kill a nerve; can we then
baulk God of His effects? This is no less blasphemous than to say we kill God when
we cut the nerve. If a man understand not his brother whom he hath seen, how shall [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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