"Godless, faithless have they grown; Atheism now they preach. Child, my child, oh, guard thee 'gainst Feuerbach and Bauer too! "Never be an atheist! Monster void of reverence! For a great Creator reared All the mighty Universe! "And the sun and moon on high, And the stars--the stars with tails Even as the tailless ones-- Are reflections of His power. "In the depths of sea and land Ring the echoes of His fame, And each creature yields Him praise For His glory and His might. "E'en the tiny silver louse Which within some pilgrim's beard Shares his earthly pilgrimage, Sings to Him a song of praise! "High upon his golden throne In yon splendid tent of stars, Clad in cosmic majesty, Sits a titan polar bear. "Spotless, gleaming white as snow Is his fur; his head is decked With a crown of diamonds Blazing through the central vault. "In his face bide harmony And the silent deeds of thought, And obedient to his sceptre All the planets chime and sing. "At his feet sit holy bears, Saints who suffered on the Earth, Meekly. In their paws they hold Splendid palms of martyrdom. "Ever and anon they leap To their feet as though aroused By the Holy Ghost, and lo! In a festal dance they join! "'Tis a dance where saintly gifts Cover up defects of style,-- Dance in which the very soul Seeks to leap from out its skin! "I, unworthy Troll, shall I Ever such salvation share? Shall I ever from this drear Vale of tears ascend to joy? "Shall I, drunk with Heaven's draught, In that tent of stars above, Dance before the Master's throne With a halo and a palm?" [Illustration] [Illustration] CANTO IX As the noble negro king Of our Freiligrath protrudes From his dusky mouth his long Scarlet tongue in scorn and rage,-- Even so the moon now peers Out of darkling clouds. The sad, Sleepless waterfalls forever Roar into the brooding night. Atta Troll upon the crest Of his well-beloved cliff Stands alone, and now he howls Down the wind and the abyss: "Yea, a bear am I--even he, Even he whom you have named Bruin, growler, shag-coat too, And such other titles vile. "Yea, a bear am I--that same Boorish animal you know; That gross, trampling brute am I Of your sly and crafty smiles! "Of your wit am I the mark; I'm the bugbear--him with whom Every wicked child you frighten In the silence of the night. "Yea, I am that clumsy butt Of your nursery tales--aloud Will I shout that name forever Through the scurvy world of men. "Oyez! Oyez! I'm a bear Unashamed of my descent, Just as proud as if my forbear Had been Moses Mendelsohn."