Page:Zinzendorff and Other Poems.pdf/32

That from each temple should go up to God,
Sinks in the critic's tone. All Christendom
Is one eternal burnishing of shields,
And girding on of armor. So the heat
Of border warfare checks Salvation's way.
The free complexion of another's thought
Doth militate against him, and those shades
Of varying opinion and belief,
Which sweetly blended with the skill of love,
Would make the picture beautiful, are blam'd
As features of deformity.
                                               We toil
To controvert,—to argue,—to defend,
Camping amidst imaginary foes,
And vision'd heresies. Even brethren deem
A name of doctrine, or a form of words
A dense partition-wall,—tho' Christ hath said,
"See, that ye love each other."
                                           So, come forth,
Ye, who have safest kept that Saviour's law
Green as a living germ within your souls,
Followers of Zinzendorff, stand meekly forth,
And with the gentle panoply of love,
Persuade the sister churches to recall
Their wasted energies, and concentrate
In one bright focal point, their quenchless zeal,
Till from each region of the darken'd globe,
The everlasting Gospel's glorious wing
Shall wake the nations to Jehovah's praise.