I

The sea shall praise him and the shores bear part That reared him when the bright south world was black With fume of creeds more foul than hell's own rack, Still darkening more love's face with loveless art Since Paul, faith's fervent Antichrist, of heart Heroic, haled the world vehemently back From Christ's pure path on dire Jehovah's track, And said to dark Elisha's Lord, “Thou art.” But one whose soul had put the raiment on Of love that Jesus left with James and John Withstood that Lord whose seals of love were lies, Seeing what we see—how, touched by Truth's bright rod, The fiend whom Jews and Africans called God Feels his own hell take hold on him, and dies.

II

The world has no such flower in any land, And no such pearl in any gulf the sea, As any babe on any mother's knee. But all things blessed of men by saints are banned: God gives them grace to read and understand The palimpsest of evil, writ where we, Poor fools and lovers but of love, can see Nought save a blessing signed by Love's own hand. The smile that opens heaven on us for them Hath sin's transmitted birthmark hid therein: The kiss it craves calls down from heaven a rod. If innocence be sin that Gods condemn, Praise we the men who so being born in sin First dared the doom and broke the bonds of God.

III

Man's heel is on the Almighty's neck who said, Let there be hell, and there was hell—on earth. But not for that may men forget their worth— Nay, but much more remember them—who led The living first from dwellings of the dead, And rent the cerecloths that were wont to engirth Souls wrapped and swathed and swaddled from their birth With lies that bound them fast from heel to head. Among the tombs when wise men all their lives Dwelt, and cried out, and cut themselves with knives, These men, being foolish, and of saints abhorred Beheld in heaven the sun by saints reviled, Love, and on earth one everlasting Lord In every likeness of a little child.