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Poetry.

To the Preachers of all the Creeds.

I.
Cease your drowsy disputations,
Ye who'd preach the Word divine,
Pouring out your turbid waters,
When we thirst for living wine.
Speak the truth, as if you meant it,
And would turn the Wrong to Right,
Not as if you half denied it,
And mistook the Dark for Light.

II.
Like a slow and oozy river,
Neither clear, nor broad, nor deep,
Flows your weary stream of Doctrine,
With a drone that lulls to sleep!—
Words like yours bring no conviction,
Prick no conscience, touch no heart,
And from Sin's destructive courses,
Warn no sinner to depart.

III.
Leave your dry, unfruitful dogmas,
Faith unreasoning, credence blind,
All the little narrow circles
Where you wander, self-confined;
Plashing in the mire and puddle
Of your small, sectarian pond,
Heedless of the mighty Ocean,
And the boundless Heaven beyond!

IV.
Is there nothing more to preach of
Than the letter of the Law?
Nothing left to feed the people
But the barren husk and straw?
Nothing for the unbelievers
In a creed their souls disclaim,
But eternity of torment
And the unconsuming flame?

V.
Nobler themes than these invite you,
If you'd throb as throbs the Time,
And would speak to hearts responsive
Words more human, more sublime!
"God is Love—and Love eternal;"—
"All things change—but nothing dies;"
Find this Gospel and expound it
In the Bible of the skies!

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VI.
O'er the starry vault of midnight,
See the countless worlds outspread,
Homes, perchance, of nobler creatures
Than our planet ever bred;—
Larger than the Earth—and fairer,
And then limit if you can,
God's great love to one poor corner—
And one little creature, Man!

VII.
God—our God—whose works surround us,
Preaches in the summer wind,
In the tempest of the ocean,
In the silence of the mind,
In the sparkle of the planets,
In the splendour of the sun,
In the voice of all creation—
"God is Love—and God is one!"

VIII.
Preaches ever and for ever,
That for him who made us all
There is neither Past nor Future,
Time, nor Space, nor Great, nor Small,
But one vast, eternal Present,
Filled with love for all that are,
From the dwellers in a dew-drop
To the peoples of a star.

IX.
"Love and infinite Progression!"
These the secrets of the sky,
Open to the humblest spirit
That but asks and wonders why;—
Shut alone from hostile churches,
Struggling each to rule, or be;
Who distress both Faith and Reason,—
Blind because they will not see.

X.
Give, oh, give us true Religion,
Ye who'd preach the Word divine,
We reject your tepid water,
We're athirst for living wine.
Rouse the heart—awake the conscience,
Look beneath you—look above;—
Evil is but Disobedience!
God is Justice—God is Love!

—Gamaliel Brown.