No; God is no longer in heaven; He has come down on earth to see
That nothing is wrong with the world He made; the wrong is in you and me.
He meant the earth for a garden-spot, where mill and factory stand;
Childhood, he meant for growing-time—but look at the toiling band!
Woman was meant for mother and mate—now look at the slaves of lust.
And the good folks shake their heads and say, ‘We must pray to God and trust.’
God has a billion books of our prayers unopened upon his shelves,
For the things we are begging Him to do, He wants us to do ourselves.
Jehovah, Jesus, and each soul in space
Are one and undividable. Until
We see God shining in each neighbour’s face
And find Him in ourselves and hail Him there,
What use is prayer?
Let us be still.
How can we love the whole and not each part?
How worship God, and harbour in the heart
Hate of God’s members—for all men are that.
Too long our souls have sat,
Like poor blind beggars at the door of God.
He never made a beggar—we are kings!
Let us rise up, for it is time we trod
The mountain-tops; time that we did the things
We have so long asked God to do.
He waits for you
To look deep in your brother’s eyes and see
The God within;
To hear you say ‘Lo, thou art He; Lo, thou art He.’
This is the only way to end all sin,
The difficult, one way.
A prayer without a deed is an arrow without a bow-string;
A deed without a prayer is a bow-string without an arrow.
The heart of a man should be like a quiver full of arrows,
And the hand of a man should be like a strong bow strung for action.
The heart of a man should keep his arrows ever ascending,
And the hand and the mind of a man should keep at a work unending.
IF WE SHOULD MEET HIM
Now what were the words of Jesus,
And what would He pause and say,
If we were to meet in home or street
The Lord of the world to-day?
Oh, I think He would pause and say,
‘Go on with your chosen labour;
Speak only good of your neighbour;
Widen your farms, and lay down your arms,
Or dig up the soil with each sabre.’
Now what were the answer of Jesus
If we should ask for a creed
To carry us straight through the wonderful gate
When soul from body is freed?
Oh, I think He would give us this creed:
‘Praise God, whatever betide you;
Cast joy on the lives beside you;
Better the earth, by growing in worth,
With love as the law to guide you.’
Now what were the answer of Jesus
If we should ask Him to tell
Of the last great goal of the homing soul,
Where each of us hopes to dwell.
Oh, I think it is this He would tell:
‘The soul is the builder—then wake it;
The mind is the kingdom—then take it;
And thought upon thought let Eden be wrought,
For heaven will be what you make it.’
FAITH
Let a valiant Faith cross swords with Death,
And Death is certain to fall;
For the dead arise with joy in their eyes—
They were not dead at all.
If this were only a world of chance,
Then faith, with its strong white spark
Could burn through the sod and fashion a God,
And set Him to shine in the dark.