Give us Jesus Christ, the Carpenter. What to us is your white-liveried God? O men of the anvil, of the loom, the sod, They have hid our God in a golden sepulcher; They have made of our Christ a sniveling, pampered priest, A paltry giver of fine bread and wine— Our Christ is a God of men, as Man divine, Holding in brotherhood the lost and least. He toils in the desert places by our side; He delves with us beneath the granite hill; He weeps above our brothers who have died; He dreams with us in the darkness hot and still: No surpliced shriver of the sins of men— Christ, the Carpenter, has come again. |