 | Poems |  |
DEDICATION.
I saw men kneeling where their hands had broughtAnd fashioned curiously a pile of stone.
To God they said they gave it, for his own,
And that their psalms and prayers had wrought
Its consecration. When, perplexed, I sought
Their meaning, they but answered with a groan,
And called my question blasphemy. Alone,
In silence of the wilderness, I thought
Again. Swift answer came from rock, tree, sod:
“These puny prayers superfluous rise, and late
These psalms. When first the world swung out in space,
Amid the shoutings of the sons of God,
Then was its every atom dedicate,
Forever holy by God's gift and grace.”
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