Superstition 27 



And a face turned from the clod, 

 Some call it Evolution 

 And others call it God." 



'A haze on the fair horizon, 



The infinite, tender sky, 

 The ripe, rich tints of the corn-fields, 



And the wild geese sailing high — 

 And all over upland and lowland 



The charm of the golden-rod, 

 Some of us call it Autumn 



And others call it God." 



'Like tides on a crescent sea-beach, 



When the moon is new and thin, 

 Into our hearts high yearnings 



Come welling and surging in — 

 Come from the mystic ocean, 



Whose rim no foot has trod — 

 Some of us call it Longing 



And others call it God." 



'A picket frozen on duty — 



A mother starved for her brood — 

 Socrates drinking the hemlock, 



And Jesus on the rood; 

 And millions who, humble and nameless, 



The straight, hard pathway trod — 

 Some call it Consecration 



And others call it God." l 



Superstition 



Let us now return to man and his primitive beliefs. 

 You have seen how man's emotion of fear interfered 



1 W. H. Carruth, Each in His Own Tongue. 



