Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/244

 As an anthem for God's ear, There thy week-day toil be sought With no sacrilege to fear. There the World be like a tree Folded in its shielding bark; Faith and Action blended be. There shall daily labour fuse With right Teaching and right Use, Daily drudgery be one With star-flights beyond the sun, One with Yule-tide revelry And the Dance before the Ark.

[A stormy agitation passes over the multitude; some retire; most press close about .

Light is kindled in the dark;— Life and serving God's the same!

Woe on us! He wins them—hark! Mayor, sexton, beadle, clerk!

[Aside.]

Do not scream so, o' God's name! With a bull who wants a bout? Let him roar his ravin out!

[To the multitude.]

Hence—away! God is afar! Cannot be where such men are! Fair His kingdom is and free!

[''Locks the church-door and takes the keys in his hand.'']