Classic Poem

Hurrah for great Diana!
And, whatsoe'er ye do,
Be sure to prop the old up
And sacrifice the new.

Ye lean on old traditions,
(To question them's a sin!)
And stifle holiest promptings—
The God that speaks within.

Ye clog the soul of Nature
With wretched little creeds—
Then lift your hands in wonder
At dearth of noble deeds.

Ye pray the gods to guide you,
Yet when the God appears,
You'll have no gods but old ones,
And pierce His side with spears.

Ye boast of your achievements,
Your feats with tongue and pen,
Till gods look down in wonder
At little sons of men.

Hurrah for great Diana!
And whatsoe'er ye do,
Be sure to prop the old up
And sacrifice the new.