Baring his sunburnt strength to all the world,
He casts his eyes abroad with Jovian glance—
Searches the tracks of old Tradition; scans
With rebel heart the Book of Pedigree;
Peers into the face of Privilege and cries,
“Why are you halting in the path of man?
Is it your shoulder bears the human load?
Do you draw down the rains of the sweet heaven,
And keep the green things growing? Back to hell!”
God is descending from eternity,