I am a priest upon whose head God long ago poured holy oil; He gave to me a Word and said: “With this thou shalt mankind assoil!”
Since I went forth God to obey, Life has revealed me many things — I find it very hard to say What is most dear: The task that brings
Bread to the eater, or the rest That follows toil; the love of friends, Of books, of song,— each is most blessed And always with contentment blends.
A stone, a faggot or a flower; A bird in rapture of its flight; December-snow or April-shower; The velvet vastness of the night,
When Mother Moon has left the stars And with the winds gone gossiping — Or leans upon the gate that bars Dawn from untimely entering.
These hold for me unending charm, Fill me with wonderment and awe That men should ever think of harm, Fencing their lives about with law.
The world is such a lovely place — A jewelled pendant on Love's chain! I marvel that a human face Should pale with anger or with pain.
I marvel at the cry for bread That thunders round the waking world; The tumult of the legion's tread That shakes the earth, as souls are hurled
In battle to destroy the souls God grew in His great garden, when He won past all His other goals — Triumphant at the birth of men!
Who can behold the dance of Dawn — Juggling with stars like tinselled balls, Vestured in mantle of a wan, White glory whose dim splendour falls
Upon the mountains; and not feel Himself transcendant? Who can hear Clangour of wild birds and the peal Of matin-bells across the clear,
Blue sky, commingling with the shout Of children on their way to school, And fail at once to be about God's business?— As within a pool
You are reflected, Nature shows The miracle of what you are — The highest that Creation knows: Lord of the earth and every star!
I am a priest upon whose head God long ago poured holy oil; He gave to me a Word and said: “With this thou shalt mankind assoil!”
I come from out the Holy Place With benediction for the earth, To wipe the tears from every face And tell the fallen one his worth.
My business is to be a priest Whose holy task is to forgive, To bid the beggar to the feast, To touch the dead and make them live.
I know not any fear of thrones, No claim of Scribe and Pharisee; My word is set to many tones Of lute and harp and psaltery.
I have no temple and no creed, I celebrate no mystic rite; The human heart is all I need Wherein I worship day and night:
The human heart is all I need, For I have found God ever there — Love is the one sufficient creed, And comradeship the purest prayer!
I bow not down to any book, No written page holds me in awe; For when on one friend's face I look I read the Prophets and the Law!
I need no fountain filled with blood To cleanse my soul from mortal sin; For love is an unbounded flood — Freely I go to wash therein.
Love laughs at boundaries of wrath And is as infinite as God; Breaks down each wall, finds out each path Where wilful, straying feet have trod.
Love is the Word God gave and said: “With it thou shalt mankind assoil!” Then forthwith poured upon my head Anointing of His holy oil!
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