They would give hands to Thee, head to Thee, feet to Thee —
They who are blind:
They would give form to Thee, fashion Thee manikin,
After their kind.
They would give hate to Thee, spite to Thee, jealousy —
Thou the adored:
Only have fear in Thee, only repel Thee,
Master and Lord.
They would bring shame to Thee, even in worship —
Each empty rite:
Bigotry, canting and sere superstition,
Knowing no light.
Faiths esoteric, pedantic and recondite —
Mystical creeds:
False and insipid and brutal and selfish —
And wrought to their needs.
They whom Ye nurtured from primal conceiving,
And ne'er a flaw —
They know Thee not, or in knowing, reject Thee,
Thee and Thy law.
Saying, “We see Thee not, come to us, speak to us —
Tangible stand.
Come in the purple, crowned, robed and resplendent —
Sceptre in hand.
“Even as kings have done, through all the ages,
Brave to behold —
Fanfare of trumpets, be jeweled and refulgent
And girdled with gold:
“Or in a chariot welded of star-dust —
Glittering white —
Pause at the cloud-line‘ mid crashing of thunder
And blazing of light.
“Rolling Thy voice till the Pleiades tremble —
The spheres are amoan;
The Earth for a footstool — the outermost planets
Grouped for a throne.
“Thus would we see Thee, acclaim Thee; and worship Thee,
Thou in Thy might —
Concrete, conglomerate, human and splendid —
Aflame in our sight.”