a white sunday.
205
"To bloom is boundless freedom. It is life
From self enfranchised, opening every vein
To let in glory from above, and give
What we receive, in fragrance, color, fruit;
Life, which is heaven's: ourselves dead matter, else."
From self enfranchised, opening every vein
To let in glory from above, and give
What we receive, in fragrance, color, fruit;
Life, which is heaven's: ourselves dead matter, else."
Some good men say, "We need theology."
Others, "Not so, religion is enough."
What if both are mistaken,—and both right?
God is our need, a Presence and a Life.
Theology enthrones him in the mind,
Yet sometimes leaves the heart as hard as stone,
The hands as lifeless. And Religion, too,
Is often only an ambiguous word
For transient fervor, or for duty cold,
Or vain, self-helpful works of charity.
Without Him thought is soulless; rapture blind;
Duty a lifelong bondage; love, thin air.
Through Him alone is man a living soul:
Through Him alone is earth the bride of heaven.
Others, "Not so, religion is enough."
What if both are mistaken,—and both right?
God is our need, a Presence and a Life.
Theology enthrones him in the mind,
Yet sometimes leaves the heart as hard as stone,
The hands as lifeless. And Religion, too,
Is often only an ambiguous word
For transient fervor, or for duty cold,
Or vain, self-helpful works of charity.
Without Him thought is soulless; rapture blind;
Duty a lifelong bondage; love, thin air.
Through Him alone is man a living soul:
Through Him alone is earth the bride of heaven.
Here in Thy great world-garden, Lord, we stand:
And Thou, whose trees we are, who art our sun,
Hast once descended to our roots of being,
And Thou, whose trees we are, who art our sun,
Hast once descended to our roots of being,
