Songs of Love and Rebellion/The church
THE CHURCH
The church gets up at midnight when the race in sleep is thralled,
And ere the slumb'rers waken, it the way of life has walled;
Illuming facts are taken from accusing hist'ry's page,
And love's torch-bearers murdered by the priesthoods in their rage.
The church fights never fairly, never on the open plain,
But tigerlike and stealthily, with dagger, dirk and chain;
Up through the gloom of ignorance, unseen, unheard, felt-shod,
It creeps upon its victim, and strikes in the name of God.
The church will swear allegiance unto any cause that lives,
Teach anything, preach anything, serve any cause that gives;
Will, for a price, robe right in sackcloth, wrong in silk array,
Will crown a Constantine and cheer a Calvin on his way.
The church spreads like a upas over heart and soul and mind,
Grows powerful and fattens as the race grows stooped and blind;
Forever and forever it is siding with the kings,
Is at the throat of Labor and is breaking Freedom's wings.
The church still strives to rule us now as in the yesteryear,
To keep the race on knee before the wizened god of fear;
The priest still serves the master, and the master serves the priest,
And truth is ever fighting with the ever-hungry beast.