VIII Bellum Tacitum

(The Silent War)
Oh, when and where have men of virtue gone?
Their footsteps died away an age ago,
We strain to hear their noble fading song,
While rising up the banner of its foe.
That noblest excuse for lechery-
The artistry and pleasure of the base
Does ever hail that grand debauchery,
The beauty that is shallow in its haste.
Pale art is not alone in its attempt,
Cruel science holds its standard higher still.
The works of Man do ever seem unkept,
And power over nature boosts his will.
The artistry and virtue are at war,
Indulgence and the gloried days of yore.
-Vir Cogitans Americanus
Scribit dies XXVII Iunii, Anno Domini MMVII

IV Ars aut Probitas

(Art or Virtue)
An age ago, more truly two or three,
The qualitative query did appear-
As Athens wrote and danced a jubilee,
And Sparta taught all other states to fear.
In affluence the thinkers did emerge,
In scarcity the heroes could be seen-
Virility and art did then diverge,
The hero’s bloody sword, and beauty’s gleam.
The modern west is clearly feminine,
Its virtue long deceased and buried low,
Yet many miss the glory while in sin,
And all decry the weakness which we sow.
A couple quarrelling may gain repose,
Yet how can both submit, if they are foes?
-Vir Cogitans Americanus
Scribit Dies VI Iunii, Anno Domini MMVII