Do not therefore turn your nose up,
Gentle reader, if the cave of
Atta Troll may not remind you
Of Arabia’s sweetest spices.
Tarry in that reeking circle,
’Mid those miserable stenches,
Where to his young son the hero
As from out a cloud thus speaks:
“Child, my child, thou youngest offspring
“Of my loins, now place thy one ear
“Close beside thy father’s muzzle,
“And suck in my solemn words!
“Guard against man’s ways of thinking,
“They destroy both soul and body;
“‘Mongst all men there’s no such thing as
“Any ordinary man.
“E’en the Germans, once so noble,
“E’en the very sons of Tuisco,
“Our own primitive relations,
“They too have degenerated.
“They’ve become now faithless, godless,
“Even preaching atheism—
“Child, my child, be on thy guard,
“‘Gainst both Feuerbach and Bauer![30]
“Never be an Atheist,
“Monster void of all respect for
“The Creator—a Creator
“’Twas who made this universe!
“High above us, sun and moon
“And the stars too (both the tail-less
“And all those with tails provided)
“Are reflections of His power.
“Down below us, land and sea
“Are the echo of His glory,
“And each living creature praises
“Evermore His excellencies.
“E’en the smallest silver-louse that
“In the aged pilgrim’s beard
“In life’s pilgrimage is sharer,
“Sings the great Eternal’s praises!