THE SLANDERER
Of all things vile beneath the sky,
By night or day that creep or fly;
The spider, bedbug, hated louse;
Or close-coiled rattler, gnawing mouse;
The buzzard, skunk, or murderous mink,
Hyena mean, whose eye doth blink—
Wherever one may rest or wander,
The vilest he who breedeth slander.
The rattler warns you—jump or run,
Or give him battle with stick or gun!
The skunk offends you—let him go;
He takes his choice ’twixt friend and foe.
The blackest buzzards often use
Some others’ victim or refuse.
Bedbugs—Bah! Such creeping things
Do basely vex; still we are kings.
Hyenas are caged or far away;
The mice entrapped by night and day.
But Slanderer’s base and slimy word
Is fouler far than beast or bird.
Infectious doubt injects he first,
And defamation’s not his worst;
His victim says: “I’m stript of fame;
If felon then, I’ll play the game.”
Thus some decide; and who may tell
The dirty depths of this fiend of hell?
And there he’ll go, upwept, unsung—
The vilest monster yet unhung!
THE WORLD’S GREATEST
EGOTIST
He made his earth, and scaled his lofty sky;
He spread abroad his universal sea;
He climbed his visioned mountains, towering high,
The cause and course of Wisdom he’d decree.
’Gainst man’s accurst and weary, ill-formed world,
All rent apart by fools and their divisions,
His burning anathemas he ever hurled,
His direst doom, and his divine decisions.
No other man, through years and cycles run,
Was bold enough to say: “God is dead”;
Of all great men, philosopher but one,
Thyself, alone, and madness seized thy head!
O thou, most blatant babbler, Friedrich Nietzsche,
How thou didst snuffle—how thou didst sneeze thee!