To the Jesuits

Flower-wreathed with all unfading calumnies
Scarlet and splendid with eternal slander
How should you hope, where'er the world may wander,
To lose the long laudation of its lies?

The yellow gods of sunrise saw arise
Your tilted towers that housed the moons and suns,
The red sons of the sunset, not with guns
But with guitars, you ambushed for surprise.

You bade the Red Man rise like the Red Clay
Of God's great Adam in his human right,
Till trailed the snake of trade, our own time's blight,
And Man lost Paradise in Paraguay.

You, when wild sects tortured and mocked each other
Saw truth in the wild tribes that tortured you
Slurred for not slurring all who slurred or slew,
Blamed that your murderer was too much your brother

You hailed before its dawn Democracy
Which in its death bays you with demagogues
You dared strong kings that hunted you with dogs
To hide some hunted king in trench or tree.

When Calvin's Christ made Antichrist had caught
Even the elect and all men's hearts were hardened,
You were called profligates because you pardoned,
And tools of ignorance because you taught.

All that warped world your charity could heal
All the world's charity was not for you;
How should you hope deliverance in things new
In this the last chance twist of the world's wheel?

One while that wheel as a vast top is twirled
With every age, realm, riot, pomp or pact,
Thrown down in thunder like a cataract,
Said, " Fear not; I have overthrown the world " .
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