If I had been a Heathen, <br />I'd have praised the purple vine, <br />My slaves should dig the vineyards, <br />And I would drink the wine. <br />But Higgins is a Heathen, <br />And his slaves grow lean and grey, <br />That he may drink some tepid milk <br />Exactly twice a day. <br /> <br />If I had been a Heathen, <br />I'd have crowned Neaera's curls, <br />And filled my life with love affairs, <br />My house with dancing girls; <br />But Higgins is a Heathen, <br />And to lecture rooms is forced, <br />Where his aunts, who are not married, <br />Demand to be divorced. <br /> <br />If I had been a Heathen, <br />I'd have sent my armies forth, <br />And dragged behind my chariots <br />The Chieftains of the North. <br />But Higgins is a Heathen, <br />And he drives the dreary quill, <br />To lend the poor that funny cash <br />That makes them poorer still. <br /> <br />If I had been a Heathen, <br />I'd have piled my pyre on high, <br />And in a great red whirlwind <br />Gone roaring to the sky; <br />But Higgins is a Heathen, <br />And a richer man than I: <br />And they put him in an oven, <br />Just as if he were a pie. <br /> <br />Now who that runs can read it, <br />The riddle that I write, <br />Of why this poor old sinner, <br />Should sin without delight- <br />But I, I cannot read it <br />(Although I run and run), <br />Of them that do not have the faith, <br />And will not have the fun.<br /><br />Gilbert Keith Chesterton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-song-of-the-strange-ascetic/
