Page:The Bab Ballads.djvu/135

 "You see, when an anchorite bows
 * To the yoke of intentional sin—

If the state of the country allows,
 * Homogeny always steps in—

"It's a highly æsthetical bond,
 * As any mere ploughboy can tell—"

"Of course," replied puzzled old.
 * "I see," said old.

"Very good then," continued the lord,
 * "When its fooled to the top of its bent,

With a sweep of a Damocles sword
 * The web of intention is rent.

"That's patent to all of us here,
 * As any mere schoolboy can tell."

answered, "Of course it's quite clear;"
 * And so did that humbug.

"Its tone's esoteric in force—
 * I trust that I make myself clear?"—

only answered "Of course,"
 * While slowly muttered, "Hear, hear."

"Volition—celestial prize,
 * Pellucid as porphyry cell—

Is based on a principle wise."
 * "Quite so," exclaimed and.