Your skill has fashioned stately creeds, But where is He, we pray— The friendly Christ of loving deeds? He is not here today. With sentences that twist and tease, Confusing mind and heart, You forge your wordy homilies And bid us heed your art. But where is He—or can you tell?— Who stilled the brothers' strife, Who urged the woman at the well To live a better life? Where is the Saint of Galilee, Crude Peter's faithful guide; The man who wept at Bethany Because His friend had died? We weary of your musty lore Behind dead walls of gray; We want His loving words once more By some Emmaus way. Give us the Christ who can bestow Some comfort-thought of death. Give us a Christ our hearts can know— The Man of Nazareth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN DE CO'N PONE'S HOT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE WEATHER-COCK POINTS SOUTH by AMY LOWELL LINES TO THE MEMORY OF ANNIE WHO DIED AT MILAN, JUNE 6, 1860 by HARRIET BEECHER STOWE THE LAST LOOK O' HAME by HEW AINSLIE INSCRIPTIONS: 2. FOR A STATUE OF CHAUCER AT WOODSTOCK by MARK AKENSIDE |