 | From Sunset Ridge |  |
83
THE CHRIST
No idle superstition made him;
Nor canst thou, Critic, him unmake;
No sect upreared his holy stature,
Beloved for its divineness' sake.
Nor canst thou, Critic, him unmake;
No sect upreared his holy stature,
Beloved for its divineness' sake.
Wipe rudely out the glowing picture;
Leave but thy blank for man to read;
Write nothingness where'er it please thee;
Take, as I fling them, creed for creed:
Leave but thy blank for man to read;
Write nothingness where'er it please thee;
Take, as I fling them, creed for creed:
What hast thou then? thine own dominion,
The empire that thy nature craves;
Crown thee a tyrant of opinion,
With disbelievers for thy slaves.
The empire that thy nature craves;
Crown thee a tyrant of opinion,
With disbelievers for thy slaves.
He grew not great by priestly cunning,
Nor magic gifts, nor Eastern arts:
Immortal love sprang up to honor
The fair ideal of our hearts.
Nor magic gifts, nor Eastern arts:
Immortal love sprang up to honor
The fair ideal of our hearts.
As from some dreamer's inspiration
Each noble school of Science grew,
And rules that help the striving many
Were moulded from the gifted few;
Each noble school of Science grew,
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Were moulded from the gifted few;
So, from his life and thoughts transcendent,
Flashed light that ages cannot dim:
Blind Faith and Feeling were before him;
Religion followed after him.
Flashed light that ages cannot dim:
Blind Faith and Feeling were before him;
Religion followed after him.
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