My Lyrical Life Poems Old and New. By Gerald Massey |
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 | My Lyrical Life |  |
GOD'S WORLD IS WORTHY OF BETTER MEN.
Behold! an idle tale they tell,
But who shall blame their telling it?
The rogues have got their cant to sell,
The world pays well for selling it!
But who shall blame their telling it?
The rogues have got their cant to sell,
The world pays well for selling it!
272
They say our earth's a desert drear,—
Still plagued with Egypt's blindness!
That we were sent to suffer here,—
And by a God of kindness!
Still plagued with Egypt's blindness!
That we were sent to suffer here,—
And by a God of kindness!
That since the world hath gone astray
It must be so for ever,
And we should stand still, and obey
Its Desolators. Never!
It must be so for ever,
And we should stand still, and obey
Its Desolators. Never!
We'll labour for the better time,
With all our might of Press and Pen;
Believe me, 'tis a truth sublime,
God's world is worthy of better men.
With all our might of Press and Pen;
Believe me, 'tis a truth sublime,
God's world is worthy of better men.
'Twas meant to be, since it began,
A world of love and gladness:
Its beauty may be marred by man
With all his crime and madness,
A world of love and gladness:
Its beauty may be marred by man
With all his crime and madness,
Yet 'tis a fair world still. Love brings
A sunshine for the dreary;
With all our strife, sweet Rest hath wings
To fold about the weary.
A sunshine for the dreary;
With all our strife, sweet Rest hath wings
To fold about the weary.
The Sun in glory, like a God,
To-day in heaven is shining;
The flowers on the jewelled sod
Love-messages are twining,
To-day in heaven is shining;
The flowers on the jewelled sod
Love-messages are twining,
As radiant of immortal youth
And beauty, as of old; ah! then
Believe me 'tis eternal truth,
God's world is worthy of better men.
And beauty, as of old; ah! then
Believe me 'tis eternal truth,
God's world is worthy of better men.
273
O! they are bold, knaves over-bold,
Who say we are doomed to anguish:
That men in God's own image souled,
Like hell-bound slaves must languish.
Who say we are doomed to anguish:
That men in God's own image souled,
Like hell-bound slaves must languish.
Probe Nature's heart to its red core,
There's more of good than evil;
And man, down-trampled man, is more
Of Angel than of Devil.
There's more of good than evil;
And man, down-trampled man, is more
Of Angel than of Devil.
Prepare to die? Prepare to live!
We know not what is living:
And let us for the world's good give,
As God is ever giving.
We know not what is living:
And let us for the world's good give,
As God is ever giving.
Give Action, Thought, Love, Wealth, and Time;
Work hand and brain, wield Press and Pen:
Believe me, 'tis a truth sublime,
God's world is worthy of better men.
Work hand and brain, wield Press and Pen:
Believe me, 'tis a truth sublime,
God's world is worthy of better men.
| My Lyrical Life | |