Part 15 (1/2)

_AN EXHORTATION TO MANKIND._

_Abitator del mondo._

Ye dwellers on this world, to the first Mind Exalt your eyes; and ye shall see how low Vile Tyranny, wearing the glorious show Of n.o.bleness and worth, keeps you confined.

Then look at proud Hypocrisy, entwined With lies and snares, who once taught men to know The fear of G.o.d. Next to the Sophists go, Traitors to thought and reason, jugglers blind.

Keen Socrates to quell the Sophists came: To quell the Tyrants, Cato just and rough: To quell the Hypocrites, Christ, heaven's own flame.

But to unmask fraud, sacrilege, and lies, Or boldly rush on death, is not enough; Unless we all taste G.o.d, made inly wise.

VII.

_THE BROOD OF IGNORANCE._

_Io nacqui a debellar._

To quell three t.i.tan evils I was made,-- Tyranny, Sophistry, Hypocrisy; Whence I perceive with what wise harmony Themis on me Love, Power, and Wisdom laid.

These are the bas.e.m.e.nts firm whereon is stayed, Supreme and strong, our new philosophy; The antidotes against that trinal lie Wherewith the burdened world groaning is weighed.

Famine, war, pestilence, fraud, envy, pride, Injustice, idleness, l.u.s.t, fury, fear, Beneath these three great plagues securely hide.

Grounded on blind self-love, the offspring dear Of Ignorance, they flourish and abide:-- Wherefore to root up Ignorance I'm here!

VIII.

_SELF-LOVE._

_Credulo il proprio amor._

Self-love fools man with false opinion That earth, air, water, fire, the stars we see, Though stronger and more beautiful than we, Feel nought, love not, but move for us alone.

Then all the tribes of earth except his own Seem to him senseless, rude--G.o.d lets them be: To kith and kin next shrinks his sympathy, Till in the end loves only self each one.

Learning he shuns that he may live at ease; And since the world is little to his mind, G.o.d and G.o.d's ruling Forethought he denies.

Craft he calls wisdom; and, perversely blind, Seeking to reign, erects new deities: At last 'I make the Universe!' he cries.

IX.

_LOVE OF SELF AND G.o.d._

_Questo amor singolar._

This love of self sinks man in sinful sloth: Yet, if he seek to live, he needs must feign Sense, goodness, courage. Thus he dwells in pain, A sphinx, twy-souled, a false self-stunted growth.

Honours, applause, and wealth these torments soothe; Till jealousy, contrasting his foul stain With virtues eminent, by spur and rein Drives him to slay, steal, poison, break his oath.