Robert William Service - Gods in the Gutter lyrics

I dreamed I saw three demi-gods who in a cafe sat, And one was small and crapulous, and one was large and fat; And one was eaten up with vice and verminous at that. The first he spoke of secret sins, and gems and perfumes rare; And velvet cats and courtesans voluptuously fair: "Who is the Sybarite?" I asked. They answered: "Baudelaire." The second talked in tapestries, by fantasy beguiled; As frail as bubbles, hard as gems, his pageantries he piled; "This Lord of Language, who is he?" They whispered "Oscar Wilde." The third was staring at his gla** from out abysmal pain; With tears his eyes were bitten in beneath his bulbous brain. "Who is the sodden wretch?" I said. They told me: "Paul Verlaine." Oh, Wilde, Verlaine and Baudelaire, their lips were wet with wine; Oh poseur, pimp and libertine! Oh cynic, sot and swine! Oh votaries of velvet vice! . . . Oh gods of light divine! Oh Baudelaire, Verlaine and Wilde, they knew the sinks of shame; Their sun-aspiring wings they scorched at pa**ion's altar flame; Yet lo! enthroned, enskied they stand, Immortal Sons of Fame. I dreamed I saw three demi-gods who walked with feet of clay, With cruel crosses on their backs, along a miry way; Who climbed and climbed the bitter steep to which men turn and pray.