“Be aware of the foolishness you do,”
He told them, but they turned with sneers aside
And worked to make their battered old lies new
And gripped their deepest shame as greatest pride.
There is this impetus in truth denied:
Invisible, it turns things inside out
And upside down; it renders suicide
A duty never subject to a doubt.
They said then in an idiotic shout
What would have been a whisper from the sane.
They held aloft, and then they passed about,
What should have rested under lock and chain.
And, doing nothing, he was overjoyed
To see the lot of them quite self-destroyed.