Atta Troll Part 4

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CANTO VII

Gloomy in his gloomy cave, In the circle of his home, Crouches Troll, the Foe of Man, As he growls and champs his jaws.

"Men, O crafty, pert _canaille_!

Smile away! That mighty hour Dawns wherein we shall be freed From your bondage and your smiles!

"Most offensive was to me That same twitching bitter-sweet Of the lips--the smiles of men I found unendurable!

"When in every visage white I beheld that fatal spasm, Then did anger seize my bowels And I felt a hideous qualm.

"For the smiling lips of men More insultingly declare, Even than their lips avouch, All their insolence of soul.

"And they smile forever! Even When all decency demands Gravity--as in the moments Of love's solemn mysteries.

"Yea, they smile forever. Even In their dances!--desecrate Thus this high and n.o.ble art Which a sacred cult should be.

"Ah, the dance in olden days Was a pious act of faith, When the priests in solemn round Turned about their holy shrines.

"Thus before the Covenant's Sacred Ark King David danced.

Dancing then was worship too,-- It was praying with the legs!

"So did I regard my dance When before the people all In the market-place I danced And was cheered by every soul.

"This applause, I grant you, oft Made me feel content at heart; Sweet it is from grudging foes Admiration thus to win!

"Yet despite their rapture they Still would smile and smile! My art-- Even that proved vain to save Them from base frivolity!"

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CANTO VIII

Many a virtuous citizen Smells unpleasantly the while Ducal knaves are lavendered Or a-reek with ambergris.

There are many virgin souls Redolent of greenest soap; Vice will often lave herself In rose attar top to toe.

Therefore, gentle reader, pray, Do not lift your nose in air Should Troll's cavern fail to rouse Memories of Arabia's spice.

Bide with me within this reek, 'Mid these turbid odours foul, Whence unto his son our hero Speaks, as from a misty cloud:

"Child, my child, the last begot Of my loins, thy single ear Snuggle close against the snout Of thy father, and give heed!

"Oh, beware man's mode of thought; It destroys both flesh and soul, For amongst all mankind never Shalt thou find one worthy man.

"E'en the Germans, once the best, Even Tuiskion's sons, Our dear cousins primitive, Even they have grown effete.

"G.o.dless, faithless have they grown; Atheism now they preach.

Child, my child, oh, guard thee 'gainst Feuerbach and Bauer too!

"Never be an atheist!

Monster void of reverence!

For a great Creator reared All the mighty Universe!

"And the sun and moon on high, And the stars--the stars with tails Even as the tailless ones-- Are reflections of His power.

"In the depths of sea and land Ring the echoes of His fame, And each creature yields Him praise For His glory and His might.

"E'en the tiny silver louse Which within some pilgrim's beard Shares his earthly pilgrimage, Sings to Him a song of praise!

"High upon his golden throne In yon splendid tent of stars, Clad in cosmic majesty, Sits a t.i.tan polar bear.

"Spotless, gleaming white as snow Is his fur; his head is decked With a crown of diamonds Blazing through the central vault.

"In his face bide harmony And the silent deeds of thought, And obedient to his sceptre All the planets chime and sing.

"At his feet sit holy bears, Saints who suffered on the Earth, Meekly. In their paws they hold Splendid palms of martyrdom.

"Ever and anon they leap To their feet as though aroused By the Holy Ghost, and lo!

In a festal dance they join!

"'Tis a dance where saintly gifts Cover up defects of style,-- Dance in which the very soul Seeks to leap from out its skin!

"I, unworthy Troll, shall I Ever such salvation share?

Shall I ever from this drear Vale of tears ascend to joy?

"Shall I, drunk with Heaven's draught, In that tent of stars above, Dance before the Master's throne With a halo and a palm?"

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CANTO IX