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 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! 
 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. 
 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. 
 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. 
 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. 
 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? 
It is the Mass the matters.
It is the Mass the matters.
 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. 
 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?