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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.
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.
Isocrates adviseth Demonicus, when he came to a strange city, to
worship by all means the gods of the read more
Isocrates adviseth Demonicus, when he came to a strange city, to
worship by all means the gods of the place.
He wakes a portion with judicious care;
And "Let us worship God!" he says, with solemn air.
He wakes a portion with judicious care;
And "Let us worship God!" he says, with solemn air.
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.
It is the Mass the matters.
It is the Mass the matters.
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?
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.