Weary of jangling noises never stilled, <br />The skeptic's sneer, the bigot's hate, the din <br />Of clashing texts, the webs of creed men spin <br />Round simple truth, the children grown who build <br />With gilded cards their new Jerusalem, <br />Busy, with sacerdotal tailorings <br />And tinsel gauds, bedizening holy things, <br />I turn, with glad and grateful heart, from them <br />To the sweet story of the Florentine <br />Immortal in her blameless maidenhood, <br />Beautiful as God's angels and as good; <br />Feeling that life, even now, may be divine <br />With love no wrong can ever change to hate, <br />No sin make less than all-compassionate!<br /><br />John Greenleaf Whittier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-10/
