MAX MULLER calls mythology
An "Infantine Disease,"
Just as the croup or hooping-cough
Our own dear squallers seize.
He thinks a draught of Vedic forms,
A dose of Sanscrit root,
Have taught the baby Celts and Greeks
Their young ideas to shoot.
Bark with innate euphonic laws
Inherited from pa,
They naturally cried in roots
Of verbal "as" and "ar."
That "Ews, 'Opopevs, and Zevs,
With all of godlike fame,
By dint of shrewd analysis
Have each a Sanscrit name.
And with his suffix "vat" and "van,"
His "s" changed before "a,"
His etymology of words
Which never saw the day,
His desecrating hand entwined
In 'Aopwoirn's hair,
By some barbaric Aryan charm
He's changed into a mare.
Alas! the very god of Love,
Without the least remorse,
He's changed to a d - d Sanscrit word
That means a racing horse.
Z.
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