"Which now men lose, through looking back
To find it at the stake and rack:
"The rack and stake have gathered grime:
God's touchstone is the passing time."
—Just then, amid some olive-sprays,
Two orioles perched, and piped their lays,
Until the gold beneath their throats
Shook molten in their mellow notes.
Then, pealing from the church, a psalm
Rolled forth upon the outer calm.
"Both choirs," said I, "are in accord;
For both give worship to the Lord."
Said he, "The tree-top song, I fear,
Fled first and straightest to God's ear.
"If men bind other men in chains,
Then chant, doth God accept the strains?
"Do loud-lipped hymns His ear allure?—
God hates the church that harms the poor!"
—Then rose a meeting-house in view,
Of bleached and weather-beaten hue,