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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.
I worship the quicksand he walks in.
I worship the quicksand he walks in.
It is the Mass the matters.
It is the Mass the matters.
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.
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?
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.
And what greater calamity can fall upon a nation than the loss of
worship.
And what greater calamity can fall upon a nation than the loss of
worship.
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.