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1692
IN the solemn days of old, | |
| Two men met in Boston town, | |
| One a tradesman frank and bold, | |
| One a preacher of renown. | |
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| Cried the last, in bitter tone,— | 5 |
| “Poisoner of the wells of truth! | |
| Satan’s hireling, thou hast sown | |
| With his tares the heart of youth!” | |
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| Spake the simple tradesman then,— | |
| “God be judge ’twixt thou and I; | 10 |
| All thou knowest of truth hath been | |
| Unto men like thee a lie. | |
| |
| “Falsehoods which we spurn to-day | |
| Were the truths of long ago; | |
| Let the dead boughs fall away, | 15 |
| Fresher shall the living grow. | |
| |
| “God is good and God is light, | |
| In this faith I rest secure; | |
| Evil can but serve the right, | |
| Over all shall love endure. | 20 |
| |
| “Of your spectral puppet play | |
| I have traced the cunning wires; | |
| Come what will, I needs must say, | |
| God is true, and ye are liars.” | |
| |
| When the thought of man is free, | 25 |
| Error fears its lightest tones; | |
| So the priest cried, “Sadducee!” | |
| And the people took up stones. | |
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| In the ancient burying-ground, | |
| Side by side the twain now lie,— | 30 |
| One with humble grassy mound, | |
| One with marbles pale and high. | |
| |
| But the Lord hath blest the seed | |
| Which that tradesman scattered then, | |
| And the preacher’s spectral creed | 35 |
| Chills no more the blood of men. | |
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| Let us trust, to one is known | |
| Perfect love which casts out fear, | |
| While the other’s joys atone | |
| For the wrong he suffered here. | 40 |
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