What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
read more

What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile;
In vain with lavish kindness
The gifts of God are strown;
The heathen in his blindness
Bows down to wood and stone.

The heart ran o'er
With silent worship of the great of old!--
The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, read more

The heart ran o'er
With silent worship of the great of old!--
The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule
Our spirits from their urns.

Every one's true worship was that which he found in use in the
place where he chanced to be.

Every one's true worship was that which he found in use in the
place where he chanced to be.

Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones,
read more

Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones,
Forget not.

Intend some fear;
Be not you spoke with but by mighty suit;
And look you get a read more

Intend some fear;
Be not you spoke with but by mighty suit;
And look you get a prayer book in your hand
And stand between two churchmen, good my lord,
For on that ground I'll make a holy descant;
And be not easily won to our requests.

I don't like your way of conditioning and contracting with the
saints. Do this and I'll do that! Here's read more

I don't like your way of conditioning and contracting with the
saints. Do this and I'll do that! Here's one for t'other. Save
me and I'll give you a taper or go on a pilgrimage.

Isocrates adviseth Demonicus, when he came to a strange city, to
worship by all means the gods of the read more

Isocrates adviseth Demonicus, when he came to a strange city, to
worship by all means the gods of the place.

As the skull of the man grows broader, so do his creeds.
And his gods they are shaped in read more

As the skull of the man grows broader, so do his creeds.
And his gods they are shaped in his image and mirror his needs.
And he clothes them with thunders and beauty,
He clothes them with music and fire,
Seeing not, as he bows by their altars,
That he worships his own desire.

For all of the creeds are false, and all of the creeds are true;
And low at the shrines read more

For all of the creeds are false, and all of the creeds are true;
And low at the shrines where my brothers bow, there will I bow
too;
For no form of a god, and no fashion
Man has made in his desperate passion,
But is worthy some worship of mine;
Not too hot with a gross belief,
Nor yet too cold with pride,
I will bow me down where my brothers bow,
Humble, but open eyed.