Pulp Fiction, 1922 · page 154 of 180
Argosy All-Story Weekly, 4 February 1922 — page 154: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1922. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ies zs AGA ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, WE ARE SO WELL CONTENTED W*; are so well contented here below To go our daily ways, and not to know The meaning of the riddle we call Life— How came we here, and whither shall we go? The splendid panorama of the skies Is spread, 28% night, for our unwondering eyes; We gaze, unmoved, upon a million suns— Is each a world? Ah, we can but surmise! And of the earth below, what do we know? Of men that lived ten thousand years ago, Of cities buried underneath the sands, Ah, we know nothing—yet are happy so! We talk of “I” and “ me,” yet who can say He knows himself—the soul within the clay? E How came it here, and whither is it bound, : If it goes on? Where was it yesterday? | ; We earn our bread, play out our little plays; F Absorbed, intent, we fill up all our days With small events! We breed our kind and die Content, if we are fed, to go our ways! Nf We build our towers upward to the skies, And praise ourselves and them, as up they rise- Over, or up to, what we do not know, Yet oh, we count ourselves so passing wise! We fling a bridge across a rushing stream, Or build a ship to carry out a dream Of trade or conquest—we are supermen! We who are atoms in creation’s scheme! We have brought down the lightning from the sky, And wingless man at last has learned to fly, Man speaks to man across a continent— But still we know not what it is to die! We build great guns to kill our fellow men, And pride ourselves on our expertness when We make one greater than the enemy’s— But who has learned to Ging life back dysia? Is this life all> Ah, who can ever say? Some question, and some scoff—while others pray! But should one come to tell us, he would fin Us chattering of the things of every day! So well we are contented here below To go our daily ways—and not to know The meaning of the riddle we call Life! — How came we here and whither shall we go? Roselle Mercier Montgomery _ = x x = ry > ~ (E(0) 30.0KS ~ * f e <4 ae, - a : : . a Se eee he ~ eS ri , . oe >a Sa e et ee =~ oe * Wu i — . ~ oe = 2 2 —— ... ye) (E(@) ‘ n rs | z J - Al 7. |