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 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. 
 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. 
 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! 
 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. 
 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. 
 Together kneeling, night and day,
 Thou, for my sake, at Allah's shrine,
  And I--at any God's for read more 
 Together kneeling, night and day,
 Thou, for my sake, at Allah's shrine,
  And I--at any God's for thine. 
 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. 
 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? 
 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.