English poem
The Gods
Last night, as one who hears a tragic jest, I woke from dreams, half-laughing, half in tears; Methought that I had journeyed in the spheres And stood upon the Planet of the Blest! And found thereon a folk who prayed with zest Exceeding, and through all their painful years, Like strong souls struggled on, 'mid hopes and fears; 'Where dwell the gods,' they said, 'we shall find rest.' The gods? What gods, I thought, are these who so Inspire their worshippers with faith that flowers Immortal, and who make them keep aglow The flames for ever on their altar-towers? 'Where dwell these gods of yours?' I asked, and lo! They pointed upward to this earth of ours!