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The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith

... Revised by the Author: Coll. ed.

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[It is the fashion now for wits to be]
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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[It is the fashion now for wits to be]

“The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God.”—Ps. xiv. I.

It is the fashion now for wits to be
Without a God,
Except some Force behind the things we see,
Like heat or light or electricity;
And one is odd,
Among these Oracles, who still believes
In any God that thinks or loves or grieves.
But there's a spirit, deep in the heart's core,
Of reverence,
Which somehow will not bow down to adore
The mightiest force in Nature; what is more,
I have a sense
Of being something greater far than those
Blind makers of the world which science knows.
Worship I must, but may not worship aught
Which I can bind
And yoke to do me service, having caught
The secret of its power, with wonder fraught,
But without mind;
And while I comprehend it, I must be
Higher than that which comprehends not me.
You do not need to worship? May be so;
I judge you not;
Only, they say, the dog that does not know
A master, like a savage wolf will grow,
Hating his lot,
And is a sorry brute, until he find
A mightier will than his, and nobler mind.
And this would be the hapless lot of men
With out God's fear;
Their home would soon be as the wild beast's den,
All the fierce self resuming sway again;
And we should hear
But cries of wrath or hunger from the crowd,
Or pæans of self-worship vain and loud.
Save us from that self-worship! Poor, indeed,
Is he who knows
Nothing more worthy than himself to lead
His heart to purer thought and nobler deed
Than ever rose
From his self-contemplation, and to rouse
The soul to prayers and hymns and holy vows.