Classic Poem

" Men of the sombre hue, whence come ye here? "
" Issuing forth from below, we appear;
In us the wolf and the fox we combine;
None can the rules of our Order divine.
Sons of Loyola are we; ye may know
What into exile compelled us to go:
But be ye silent — behold, we return,
Lessons to teach, that your children must learn;
For your boys, your sweet little boys to train,
We flog them, and flog them, again and again.

" We by a Pope were abolished one day;
Quickly he died — of the colic, men say:
We are restored by a Pope — when he dies,
Proudly as relics his bones will we prize
Thanks to confession, o'er all we can tread:
Talk not of Henry the Fourth — he is dead!
Ho, for good Catholic Monarchs alone;
None but Fernando the Seventh we'll own!
For your boys, your sweet little boys to train,
We long them, and flog them, again and again.

" Now the great man at the head of affairs
Shows that his favor our Brotherhood shares:
Yes, at a christening at Court we've been found —
As we were bon-bons, distributed round
Thus condescending, the favorite tries
If he can piously use us as spies:
Till a few laws are repealed we'll abet him;
Then — for the sake of his soul — overset him.
For your boys, your sweet little boys, to train,
We flog them, and flog them, again and again.

" If a great change be not speedily made,
If to the rabble attention be paid,
Soon like a torch will the charter be burning,
Soon into straw will the Sovereign be turning.
But from on high inspiration we draw:
What we must have is a Charter of straw;
Litter for beggarly priests it will make —
Ours are the harvests — the tithes they may take!
For your boys, your sweet little boys, to train,
We flog them, and flog them, again and again.

" Safely entrenched in a palace we stand —
'Tis of some note — where our movements are planned:
Monks, with their gowns trimmed and fitted anew,
Serve us in place of a menial crew.
All, who in Missions are occupied, still
Travel for us, and our orders fulfil:
Capuchins have we, for Cossacks; and they
How to take Paris rehearse every day
For your boys, your sweet little boys, to train,
We flog them, and flog them, again and again.

" Lastly — to recognize us and our sway —
Mark ye the souls we've seduced in our way!
Escobard soon shall see, under our blows,
How all your schools will be brought to a close
Give to the Pope what his right he declares;
Bear ye our crosses, and make us your heirs;
Jesuits are we — yes, tremble with fear,
Tremble, all Frenchmen, our blessing ye hear!
For your boys, your sweet little boys, to train,
We flog them, and flog them, again and again. "