Page:The New Penelope.djvu/294

288 Of thunder and whirlwind and hailing;

Will he turn a deaf ear to our moaning,

Or reply to our prayers with railing?

Did you speak of a Christ who is tender—

A deity born of a woman?

Of the sorrowful, God and defender,

And brother and friend of the human?

Long ago He ascended to heaven,

Long ago was His teaching forgotten;

The lump has no longer the leaven,

But is heavy, unwholesome and rotten.

The gods are all man's, whom he praises

For laws that make woman his creature;

For the rest, theological mazes

Furnish work for the salaried preacher.

In the youth of the world it was better,

We had deities then of our choosing;

We could pray, though we wore then a fetter,

To a of binding and loosing.

We could kneel in a grove or a temple,

No man's heavy hand on our shoulder:

Had in Pallas Athene example

To make womanhood stronger and bolder.

But the temples are broken and plundered,

Sacred altars profanely o'erthrown;

Where the oracle trembled and thundered,

Are a cavern, a fount, and a stone.

Yet we would of the Christ hear the story,

'Twas familiar in days that are ended;

His humility, purity, glory,

Are they not into heaven ascended?

We see naught but scorning and hating;

We hear naught but threats and contemning;

For your Christian is good and berating,

And your sinner is first in condemning.