Page:Konx Om Pax.pdf/118
His leaky lordship they annoyed
All through the immeasurable void
—Until his pallid voice confessed
Himself in league with all the rest.
(The breathless children round me crowd.
I pause. At last one says aloud:
"But tell us how he got to glory!"
—I'm very sorry. That's the story.
But what's the moral? asks a big
Girl with the makings of a prig.
First. Golf is long, and life is fleeting:
Only one Bogey is worth beating.
Moral the Second (Quiet, girls!)
A sane squire is worth ten mad earls.
And, most important, Number Three:
Every one must trust somebody.)
You do well to treat it lightly, said Basil. It's the most terrible story I ever heard. A fico for your tragedies of blood and bones!
Indeed, 'tis the one hopeless hell, added the Scholar. It is true? You knew the man?
I did, returned the big man. As nice a fellow as you could find in three continents. And lost! lost! lost!
Oh! when will men be free of all this superstition? groaned Denzil.
Never, said the Scholar.
Now, said the big man.
I can't see it, cried Denzil, but it shall be! it shall be! And he rolled off this great oath:
I swear by all the stars that stream
Through all the lofty leaves of night:
I swear by the tremendous towers
That crown Granada's vale of flowers: