Modern Christianity

How vain­ly do the hea­then strive

To fal­si­fy our Mas­ter’s word

Who teach us that we may god­ly live

Yet nev­er suf­fer for our Lord;

In an­cient times the fact al­low

But say

the world is Christ­ian now.

Christian the world of drunk­ards is

The world of whore­mon­gers and thieves

The slaves of foul and fair ex­cess;

Whoe’er the Christ­ian rite re­ceives

Led from the font at Sa­tan’s will

Haters of Christ

and Christ­ians still.

The de­vil­ish

and the sen­su­al crowd

Who as brute beasts their lusts ob­ey

Lovers of plea­sure more than God

Who dance

and curse

and fight and play

Monsters of vice

our na­ture’s shame

All hell as­sumes the Christ­ian name.

Yet still when An­ti­christ pre­vails

And Sa­tan sits in Mo­ses’ chair

The Gos­pel truths are idle tales

No cross

no Ho­ly Ghost is there

The hea­then world will Christ­ian seem

And bid us take the rule from them.

The tem­ple of the Lord are we

(The sy­na­gogue of Sa­tan cry)

We need not per­se­cut­ed be

Or cru­el­ly our­selves de­ny:

Come see

ye fools

who sigh and grieve

How much at ease we Christ­ians live.

We are the men—of wealth and state

Of pomp

and fa­shion­able ease

Honor

and pow­er

and plea­sure wait

The silk­en sons of dow­ny peace;

And lo! we glide se­cure and ev­en

Down a broad flow­ery way—to Heav­en.

While house to house

and field to field

And liv­ing we to liv­ing join

The gaz­ing crowd ob­ei­sance yield

And praise the slick and smooth di­vine

Who saves them all the mad­man’s care

The drud­ge­ry of faith

and pray­er.

No fan­ci­ful en­thu­si­asts we

To look for in­spir­ation here

To dream from sin to be set free

Or hope to feel the Spir­it near

Or know our sins on earth for­giv­en

Or mad­ly give up all for Heav­en!