Page:Konx Om Pax.pdf/96
Alas! the days of Christ are gone:
The callous King supports the snub:
Campaspe's lips gush Lethe on
The schoolboy-trickster in the Tub.
O restless rats that gnaw the bones
Of Aristophanes and Paul!
Come up to me and Mr. Jones
And see the rapture of it all!
This moral sense is sorry stuff—
You take the peas—give me the pod!
Follow your fancy far enough!
At last you surely come to God.
Who is Mr. Jones? asked Denzil. We have heard of him from our friend here already.
Mr. Jones, said the big man, is the Unutterable Tao.
Mr. Jones, said the doctor, is (on this illusory plane of Maya) one of the wonders of the world. He is never seen or heard, felt or smelt. Nor hath he been at any time tasted of any. Yet he is everywhere; in all, and causer of all, and apart from all. By profession he is a curator in the British Museum; but that is going very low indeed upon the plane of Maya.
I have already told you, said the big man, that Mr. Jones is the Unutterable Tao. Why not leave it at that?
I will, said Basil, if Arthur will read us something. I know what he was leading up to when our friend—played with his opponent's ball.
A brother is a dreadful handicap! sighed Arthur. Still, here you are!
And he read: