"We have seen," he writes, "Astonishing revealments, inventories Taken of souls, all coming from the death Of Elenor Murray, and the inquest held To ascertain her death. Perhaps fantastic This thing may be, but scarcely more fantastic Than rubbing amber, watching frogs' legs twitch, From which the light of cities came, the power That hauls the coaches over mountain tops. We would do well to laugh at nothing, watch With interested eye the capering souls Too moved to walk straight. If a wire grounds And interpenetrates the granite blocks With viewless fire, horses shod with steel, Walking along the granite blocks will leap Like mad things in the air. Well, so we leap Before we know the cause. Let sound minds laugh. First you agree no man has looked on God; And I contend the souls who found God, told Too little of their triumph. But I hold Man shall find God and know, shall see at last What man's soul is, and where it tends, the use It was made for. And after that? Forever There's progress while there's life, all devolution Returns to progress. As to worship, God They had their amber days, days of frogs' legs. And yet before I trace the Christian growth From seed to blossom, let me prophesy: The light upon the lotus blossom pauses, Has paused these centuries and waits to move Westward and mingle with the light that shines Upon the Occident. What did Christ do But carry the Hebraic thrift and prudence Of matter and of spirit, half-corrupted By wisdom of the market to these races That crowd in Europe, in the Western World? Now you have seen such things as chemistry, And mongering in steel, the use of fire Made perfect in swift wheels, and swifter wings, Until the realm of matter seems subdued, Thought with her foot upon the dragon's head, And using him to serve. This western world Massing its powers these centuries to bring Comfort and happiness and length of days, And pushing commerce, trade to pile up gold, Knows not its soul as yet, nor God. But here I prophesy: Suppose the Hindu lore, Which has gone farther with the soul of man Than we have gone with business, has card cased The soul's addresses, introduced a system In the soul's business, just suppose this lore And great perfection in things spiritual Should by some process wed the great perfection Of this our western world, and we should have Mastery of spirit and of matter, too? Might not that progress start as one result Of this great war? Let's see from whence we came. I take the Hebrew faith, the very frog legs Of our theology--no use to say It has no place with us. Your ministers Preach from the Pentateuch, its decalogue Is all our ethic nearly; and our life Is suckled by the Hebrews; don't the Jews Control our business, while our business rules Our spirits far too much?