And then He made a third and last attempt, though edging Toward the sophistry that moral questions Make those political, and by this means Trying to win the churches. Still he stuck To matters economic, as before Took what the breweries gave to help his cause, His campaign fund. By this time many more Had found him out, and knew him for a voice And tireless body nourishing a brain As mediocre as the world contained, And only making louder noise because Of body strong and voice mellifluous. They put him down for good: the Christian Statesman Had cause to think he was no statesman, or No Christian, or the electorate not Christian. And so he took the mask off, dropped the smile, And let his mouth set like a concrete crack And went about to punish men, while seeming To save the world. Out of that indentation, That fosse of mediocrity, came up A crocodile with wagging tail upreared, And smile toothed to the gullet--it was this: Questions political are moral questions, And moral questions are political, And terms convertible are equipollent, And wholly true. Therefore, I rise to preach To moral America, draw audiences In churches, of the churches. If I win Majorities upon--no matter what-- A law will blossom; as all moral questions Are equally political, procure For their adoption the majority. Upon this fortress I can stand and shoot-- Who can attack me, since I seek for self Nothing, but for my country righteousness? And as an instrument of God I punish My enemies as well.