I’ve sometimes wished that Ingersoll were wise
To hold his tongue, nor rail against the skies;
For when he’s made a point some pious dunce
Like Bartlett of the Bulletin “replies.”
I brandish no iconoclastic fist,
Nor enter the debate an atheist;
But when they say there is a God I ask
Why Bartlett, then, is suffered to exist.
Even infidels that logic might resent,
Saying: “There’s no place for his punishment
That’s worse than earth.” But humbly I submit
That he’s himself a hell wherever sent.