[StBernard] A Poem written a long time ago

Westley Annis westley at da-parish.com
Tue Feb 25 07:55:25 EST 2014


There's a poem I'd like to share with everyone. I can recall the first time
I ever read it, how it sent a slight shiver down my spine - because I
understood exactly the message the poet-author was trying to tell us - or
should I say "warn us." It was written about a century ago by Sir Rudyard
Kipling, the same man who wrote "The Jungle Book." Rather than tell you
what it's about and it's message, I'll be curious to see how others
interpret it and reply here. Kipling uses some old vocabulary and terms,
and you might find it interesting to google and learn what some of those
terms or expressions mean. Kipling later wrote several essays on his poem's
meaning and intention - so later historians could not misinterpret his
meaning. I'll later comment on that for those who are uncertain of the
poem's message.



-John Scurich





"The Gods of the Copybook Headings"

By Sir Rudyard Kipling



As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race, I make my proper
prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall, And the
Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn That
Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn.
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind, So we left
them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace, Being neither
cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place, But they always
caught up with our progress, and presently word would come That a tribe had
been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch; They
denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings; So we
worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would
cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe, And the
Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life Which
started by loving our neighbor and ended by loving his wife.
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith, And
the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."

In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all, By robbing
selected Peter to pay for collective Paul; But, though we had plenty of
money, there was nothing our money could buy, And the Gods of the Copybook
Headings said: "If you don't work you die."

Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards
withdrew And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it
was true That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four And
the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.

As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man There are only four
things certain since Social Progress began.
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire, And the
burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wobbling back to the Fire.

And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins When all
men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins, As surely as
Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn, The Gods of the Copybook
Headings with terror and slaughter return!



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