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?

Man always worships something; always he sees the Infinite
shadowed forth in something finite; and indeed can and must read more

Man always worships something; always he sees the Infinite
shadowed forth in something finite; and indeed can and must so
see it in any finite thing, once tempt him well to fix his eyes
thereon.

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.

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.

It is the Mass the matters.

It is the Mass the matters.

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.

Ah, why
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore
read more

Ah, why
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore
Only among the crowd and under roofs
That our frail hands have raised?

Stoop, boys. This gate
Instructs you how t' adore the heavens and bows you
To a morning's read more

Stoop, boys. This gate
Instructs you how t' adore the heavens and bows you
To a morning's holy office.

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.