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Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс)


God Rules Alway


Into the world's most high and holy places
   Men carry selfishness, and graft and greed.
The air is rent with warring of the races;
   Loud Dogmas drown a brother's cry of need.
The Fleet-of-Creeds, upon Time's ocean lurches;
   And there is mutiny upon her decks;
And in the light of temples, and of churches,
   Against life's shores drift wrecks and derelicts.
      (God rules, God rules alway.)

Right in the shadow of the lofty steeple,
   Which crowns some costly edifice of faith,
Behold the throngs of hungry, unhoused people;
   The 'Bread Line,' flanked by charity and death.
See yonder Churchman, opulently doing
   Unnumbered deeds, which gladden and resound;
The while his thrifty tenant is pursuing
    The white slave trade on sacred, untaxed ground.
      (God rules, God rules alway.)

For these are but the outward signs of fever;
   Those flaunting signs, which through delirium burn;
And the clear-seeing eye of each Believer
   Can note the coming crisis. It will turn,
For it has reached its summit. Convalescing,
   The sick world shall arise to strength and peace,
And earth shall bloom, with each and every blessing
   Life waits to give, when wars and conflicts cease.
      (God rules, God rules alway.)

This is a mighty hour. No sounds of drumming,
    No flying flags, no heralds do appear;
No Wise Men of the East proclaim His coming;
    Yet He is coming---nay, our Christ is here!
And man shall leave his fever dreams behind him;
    Those dreams of avarice, and lust, and sin,
And seek his Lord; yea, he shall seek and find Him,
    In his own soul, where He has always been.
       (God rules, God rules alway.)

Man longs for God. Before the Christ we wot of,
   With His brief mighty message, came to earth,
Before His life, or creed, or cross were thought of,
   The love of love within man's breast had birth.
But blindly, through his carnal senses reaching,
   He plucked dead fruit, and nothing has sufficed;
Nor can his soul find rest in any teaching,
   Until he knows that he, himself, is Christ.
      (God rules, God rules alway.)

Oh, when he knows this truth in all its splendour,
   What majesty, what glory crowns his life:
And, one with God, his every thought is tender;
   He cannot enter into war, or strife.
His love goes out to every race and nation;
   His whole religion lies in being kind.
This is the creed that means the world's salvation;
   The birth of christ in every mortal mind.
      (God rules, God rules alway.) 



Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
  1. The Birth of the Orchid
  2. Helen of Troy
  3. Art Thou Alive?
  4. The Barbarous Chief
  5. Be Not Attached


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