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.
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Yet, if he would, man cannot live all to this world. If not
religious, he will be superstitious. IF read more
Yet, if he would, man cannot live all to this world. If not
religious, he will be superstitious. IF he worship not the true
God, he will have his idols.
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.
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.
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.
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.
How often from the steep
Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard
Celestial voices to the read more
How often from the steep
Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard
Celestial voices to the midnight air,
Sole, or responsive each to other's note,
Singing their great Creator?
So shall they build me altars in their zeal,
Where knaves shall minister, and fools shall kneel:
read more
So shall they build me altars in their zeal,
Where knaves shall minister, and fools shall kneel:
Where faith may mutter o'er her mystic spell,
Written in blood--and Bigotry may swell
The sail he spreads for Heav'n with blasts from hell!
Ay, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod,
They have left unstained, what there read more
Ay, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod,
They have left unstained, what there they found,--
Freedom to worship God.
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.
