The Hebrew shepherd folk, up Goshen way,
worship a most unique God, Whom, they say,
governs the stars and yet is personal.
The world forgets what these peasants keep known
among themselves: false gods, made of carved stone,
or nature's force, are lifeless, cold, and still.
Their darkened temples' dreadful rites just kill.
One God---kind, gracious, fair, and ever living,
can understand mankind's need of forgiving,
amid both private sins and public strife.
I feel, as for the first time, in my soul
a warmth and light like to that of the sun,
God's making is this disc: its hands, each one,
effulgent rays, bearing the cross of life.
J-9thxciv
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