Document. The Scorn of the World: A Poem in Three Books

Abstract

A lost age, jealous of good character, has got the upper hand. They are nameless who try to live without sin. The golden age and kiss of peace have perished. It is now a really faithless, ill-smelling age. An ill-smelling age, I call it not filthy, but the incarnation of filth; reeking with filth, I call it not dead, but death itself. O evil days! The faithless heart is made a theme of praise, that which is without fraud and innocent of sin is called stupid and dull. Fraud is in honor, is prominent in craft, and is master of craft; scarcely one man in four is found without cleverness in fraud. Fraud with frank face, fraud made up with double complexion, wears two cloaks, bears wickedness in its heart, honey on its tongue. It wears a double cloak, for it bears a sting within, a smile on the surface, a scorpion of inward guile and outward smiles. Ah me! What am I at ? I lament and shall continue to lament these