And this thin earth go crumbling into space,
The little space between a woman's breasts.
Thereat was scandal, and a priest exclaimed that man was half a beast.
I could have told him that before. Man was the half I like the least.
To obviate a sinful fate the monks laid on us many weeks
Of penance, wasting us the more with these inventions of the Greeks.
Some paid in cash, some chose the lash—their backs were pitiful to see—
While Bishop Adhémar of Puy recited magic formulæ
That lurched us forward to our doom. We cleft the sultanate of Roum,
Calling for bread. The peasants fled. We swept the country like a broom.