Who are my enemies? The intelligencia, as they call themselves, Who flaunt the Bible wholly or in part, Or try to say that Darwin's evolution Honors the Deity more than Genesis. Who are my enemies? The thinkers, yes, The strivers for a higher culture, yes, The scorners of old fashioned ways, the things Really American!--I know the crowd-- That smart minority I overwhelm, Blot out, drown out, by massing under me The great majority, the common folk, Believers in the Bible--first for them! And on the way the vile saloon I crush, The abominable brewery--then I take away From banqueters and diners, diners out, The seekers after happiness, not God, The cocktail and the wine they love so well. This is a moral question, being so Is also a political--the majority Can do what they desire. I am consistent, For from the first I've preached the people's rule, Abided by the people's voice and taken Defeat with grace because the people gave it. So now I say the people have the right To pass upon all questions. As I said When starting as a public man, the people Could have what Government they desired, in fact A King, or despotism, if they voted for it. For all this talk of rights, or realms of right, Or individual preferences, beliefs And courses in the world is swallowed up By right of the majority--the serpent Of Moses, so to speak, which swallowed up All other serpents. If he thought so much The Christian Statesman thought this way--at least He acted out a part which seemed to say He analyzed so far. He went to work To make his country just a despotism Not governed by a King, but by the people Laying the hand of law on everything Most intimate and private, having thought For moral aspects, as all politics Are moral in their essence, to repeat. Did not the Christian Statesman have revenge In building his theocracy, who saw All bills of right and fruit of revolution Ground into mortar, made into a throne For Demos? And behold King Demos now! A slouch hat for a crown upon his brow, Stuffed full of bacon and of apple pie, The Christian Statesman leaning on his shoulder A tableau of familiarity. The Christian Statesman having lost his hair Betrays the Midas ears--the oily smile Beams on the republic he has overthrown! THE LAMENT OF SOPHONIA You who have wasted this June for me, Bitter be the seed of your love. Long midnights by the sea Have I waited for your return, Counting the stars-- Bitter be the seed of your love.