Man the maker of cities is also a builder of altars:
Among his habitations he setteth tables for his god.
He bringeth the beauty of the rocks to enrich them:
Marble and alabaster, porphyry, jasper and jade.
He cometh with costly gifts to offer an oblation:
He would buy favour with the fairest of his flock.
Around the many altars I hear strange music arising:
Loud lamentations and shouting and singing and sighs.
I perceive also the pain and terror of their sacrifices:
I see the white marble wet with tears and with blood.
Then I said, These are the altars of ignorance:
Yet they are built by thy children, O God, who know thee not.
Surely thou wilt have pity upon them and lead them:
Hast thou not prepared for them a table of peace?
Then the Lord mercifully sent his angel forth to lead me:
He led me through the temples, the holy place that is hidden.
Lo, there are multitudes kneeling in the silence of the spirit:
They are kneeling at the unseen altar of the lowly heart.
Here is plentiful forgiveness for the souls that are forgiving:
And the joy of life is given unto all who long to give.
Here a Father’s hand upholdeth all who bear each other’s burdens:
And the benediction falleth upon all who pray in love.
Surely this is the altar where the penitent find pardon:
And the priest who hath blessed it forever is the Holy One of God.
by Henry van Dyke
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