Robert Graves

(1895 - 1985 / London / England)

The Boy Out Of Church - Poem by Robert Graves

As Jesus and his followers
Upon a Sabbath morn
Were walking by a wheat field
They plucked the ears of corn.

They plucked it, they rubbed it,
They blew the husks away,
Which grieved the pious pharisees
Upon the Sabbath day.

And Jesus said, 'A riddle
Answer if you can,
Was man made for the Sabbath
Or Sabbath made for man?'

I do not love the Sabbath,
The soapsuds and the starch,
The troops of solemn people
Who to Salvation march.

I take my book, I take my stick
On the Sabbath day,
In woody nooks and valleys
I hide myself away.

To ponder there in quiet
God's Universal Plan,
Resolved that church and Sabbath
Were never made for man.


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 1, 2010



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