Strong, Jesus' words,
Stinging, like lash of whips.
To the dulled ears of those who bought and sold,
And those who would handle with kid gloves,
Delicately, with compromise, false tact—
Considerate of favor, richer tithes—
The sheep-clothed traffickers
In impure thoughts and aims,
Whom he named thieves.
Let none such motives, God, in whom I dwell,
Despoil the house of prayer that is my mind!
As servitor and minister let me
Be swift to discern the intents that are pure,
Swift to cast out the traffickers in self
That would aggrandize man by matter limned.
Seeking by theft of truth some spurious gain!
