And of the Church about the priests, ‘of course,’
And of the priests about himself, ‘of course.’
I tell you this is cursèd selfishness;
I tell you it is downright sacrilege!—
To strain the oceans of the Infinite
Down through that sieve, man’s windpipe, wheezing out,
‘I deal the voice of God, I, I, the priest.’”
“O Haydn,” said I, “How—how can you dare?”
“How dare?” he cried out, “dare? Am I a dog,
A dog or woman cringing to a man,