Hath science banished heaven now,
And see—your Groom is crucified—”
On heaven’s breast you lean your brow
And laugh, and love—Saint Bride, Saint Bride.
THE SLAVE OF GOD
The finest fruit God ever made
Hangs from the Tree of Heaven blue.
It hangs above the steel sea blade
That cuts the world’s great globe in two.
The keenest eye that ever saw