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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384692" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Times</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The times are not degenerate. Man’s faith<br>Mounts higher than of old. No crumbling creed<br>Can take from the immortal soul the need<br> Of that supreme Creator, God. The wraith<br>Of dead beliefs we cherished in our youth<br>Fades but to let us welcome new-born Truth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Man may not worship at the ancient shrine<br>Prone on his face, in self-accusing scorn.<br>That night is past. He hails a fairer morn, <br> And knows himself a something all divine; <br>No humble worm whose heritage is sin, <br>But, born of God, he feels the Christ within.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Not loud his prayers, as in the olden time, <br>But deep his reverence for that mighty force, <br>That occult working of the great all Source, <br> Which makes the present era so sublime.<br>Religion now means something high and broad, <br>And man stood never half so near to God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ella+Wheeler+Wilcox">Ella Wheeler Wilcox</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384692" data-title="The Times de Ella Wheeler Wilcox" data-description="The times are not degenerate. Man’s faith
Mounts higher than of old. No crumbling creed
Can take from the immortal soul the need
 Of that supreme Creator, God. The wraith
Of dead beliefs we cherished in our youth
Fades but to let us welcome new-..."></div>
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