That he hateth the shedder of blood, yet he slayeth us, everyone.
You tell me the soul must live, that spirit can never die,
If he was content when I was not, why not when I’ve passed by?
You say that I must have a meaning! So has dung,—and its meaning is flowers:
What if our lives are but nurture for souls that are higher than ours?
When the fish swims out of the water, when the bird soars out of the blue,
Man’s thought shall transcend man’s knowledge, and your God be no reflex of you!
Author not traced.
The preceding poem by Lyall had the same title as these verses, “Meditation of a Hindu Prince and Sceptic” when first published in the Cornhill, September, 1877. I was fully convinced, for reasons that would take too long to set out here, that these verses were by Hodgson. But Mrs. Piper, the well-known trance-medium, says that Hodgson gave her a copy signed with other initials than his, and that she is sure he was not the author. She has mislaid the copy she refers to. In view of this statement I must not attribute the verses to Hodgson, although I cannot but doubt whether Mrs. Piper’s recollection is correct.