Heretics all, whoever you be,
In Tarbes or Nimes, or over the sea,
You never shall have good words from me.
_Caritas non conturbat me._
If you ask me why I put a Latin line at the end, it was because I had
to show that it was a song connected with the Universal Fountain and
with European culture, and with all that Heresy combats. I sang it to
a lively hymn-tune that I had invented for the occasion.
I then thought what a fine fellow I was, and how pleasant were my
friends when I agreed with them. I made up this second verse, which I
sang even more loudly than the first; and the forest grew deeper,
sending back echoes -
But Catholic men that live upon wine
Are deep in the water, and frank, and fine;
Wherever I travel I find it so,
_Benedicamus Domino._
There is no doubt, however, that if one is really doing a catholic
work, and expressing one's attitude to the world, charity, pity, and a
great sense of fear should possess one, or, at least, appear. So I
made up this third verse and sang it to suit -
On childing women that are forlorn,
And men that sweat in nothing but scorn:
