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Worship

Rating: 2.7

There is no worship now,—the idol stands
Within the spirit's holy resting place!
Millions before it bend with upraised hands,
And with their gifts God's purer shrine disgrace;
The prophet walks unhonored mid the crowd
That to the idol's temple daily throng;
His voice unheard above their voices loud,
His strength too feeble 'gainst the torrent strong;
But there are bounds that ocean's rage can stay
When wave on wave leaps madly to the shore:

And soon-the prophet's word shall men obey,
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