Heretics all, whoever you be,
In Tarbes or Nimes, or over the sea,
You never shall have good words from me.
_Caritas non conturbat me._
If you ask me why I put a Latin line at the end, it was because I had
to show that it was a song connected with the Universal Fountain and
with European culture, and with all that Heresy combats. I sang it to
a lively hymn-tune that I had invented for the occasion.
I then thought what a fine fellow I was, and how pleasant were my
friends when I agreed with them. I made up this second verse, which I
sang even more loudly than the first; and the forest grew deeper,
sending back echoes--
But Catholic men that live upon wine
Are deep in the water, and frank, and fine;
Wherever I travel I find it so,
_Benedicamus Domino._
There is no doubt, however, that if one is really doing a catholic
work, and expressing one's attitude to the world, charity, pity, and a
great sense of fear should possess one, or, at least, appear. So I
made up this third verse and sang it to suit--
On childing women that are forlorn,
And men that sweat in nothing but scorn:
That is on all that ever were born,
_Miserere Domine._
Then, as everything ends in death, and as that is just what Heretics
least like to be reminded of, I ended thus--
To my poor self on my deathbed,
And all my dear companions dead,
Because of the love that I bore them,
_Dona Eis Requiem._
I say 'I ended.' But I did not really end there, for I also wrote in
the spirit of the rest a verse of Mea Culpa and Confession of Sin, but
I shall not print it here.
So my song over and the woods now left behind, I passed up a dusty
piece of road into Moutier, a detestable town, all whitewashed and
orderly, down under the hills.
I was tired, for the sun was now long risen and somewhat warm, and I
had walked ten miles, and that over a high ridge; and I had written a
canticle and sung it--- and all that without a sup or a bite. I
therefore took bread, coffee, and soup in Moutier, and then going a
little way out of the town I crossed a stream off the road, climbed a
knoll, and, lying under a tree, I slept.