The Priests

Love called to Men from Heaven's bright Gate,
'Who look to God now, soon and late?'
''Tis we who look aloft to God,'
To Love replied the Priests elate.
Love cried 'How can ye look on high,
Who thus your Forms and Words inflate?
Ye cannot see where pure Light dwells,
So full your Eyes of Greed and Hate.
Your dark Deeds dim the Noontide's Ray;
Ye shame the Sun while thus ye prate.
The Grace that sits enthroned on high,
Can ne'er its Claim of Faith abate.
Nor can the Just One justly give
The Hearing which ye supplicate.
O ere ye look to Heaven again,
Put off all earthly Pride and State.
Your Hearts let Love, not Hatred, rule;
Then look to God, and on Him wait!'