For the Sexes: The Gates of Paradise

Mutual Forgiveness of each Vice, Such are the Gates of Paradise. Against the Accuser’s chief desire Who walkd among the Stones of Fire Jehovah’s Finger Wrote the Law, They Wept, then rose in Zeal & Awe And the Dead Corpse from Sinai’s heat Buried beneath his Mercy Seat. O Christians, Christians, tell me Why You rear it on your Altars high.

Truly, My Satan, thou art but a Dunce, And dost not know the Garment from the Man. Every Harlot was a Virgin once, Nor canst thou ever change Kate into Nan.

Tho’ thou art Worship’d by the Names Divine Of Jesus & Jehovah, thou art still The Son of Morn in weary Night’s decline, The lost Traveller’s Dream under the Hill.