Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395968" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Auri Sacra Fames</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now that the gods are dead—where shall we find us a god?<br>Myths of the Greek Olympus have sunk in the surge of Time;<br>And Jehovah, the God of Wrath, who stayed the sun at His nod;<br>And Jesus, the Nazarene, preaching a dream sublime.<br>Worship and form may live, practice and faith have fled.<br>Where shall we find us a god—now that the gods are dead? <br>What of the Old exists but feels the touch of the New?<br>Thousands of voices shout: where is the voice that leads?<br>Thro’ the wreathing mists of night will the grey of dawn be true,<br>In the age of vague unrest, strivings, and shattered creeds?<br>Where the children turn with scorn from the paths their fathers trod,<br>Now that the gods are dead, where shall we find us a god? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gone are the mists of old in the light of the larger day!<br>Gone is the foolish hope, the trust in a Power above!<br>Science has swept the heavens and brushed religion away!<br>What need we hope or fear? Warfare is clothed like Love!<br>Priestcraft is but a trade—souls can be bought and sold!<br>Why should we seek for a god—now that our god is Gold? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Great were the gods of eld—a greater than all is near!<br>Noblest of all the powers which ruled o’er the soul of man!<br>Centuries paved the way, now the ideal is here<br>Product of all the aeons that rolled since the world began!<br>Millions have toiled for this with sufferings manifold.<br>This is the triumph of time—the god of the world is Gold! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Worship before his feet and kneel in his holy place,<br>For his altar is on the hearth and the rolling world is his throne!<br>With the throb of a votary’s pulse beats the heart of the human race,<br>From the lips of the child at play sounds the creed we have called our own.<br>Gather, O sons of men, but not like the men of old:<br>Savages worshipped honour—we have no god but Gold. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gather, O sons of men! let us kneel at the sacred shrine.<br>Beauty was won by deeds—now it is bought and sold!<br>Justice was deemed of God—now it is scarce divine!<br>Honour dearer than life—what is honour to Gold?<br>O daughters, sisters, and wives! beauty was meant to sell!<br>Let us call the blessing of Heaven on the marriages made in Hell! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Over the marriage chime, and over the requiem’s sigh,<br>Into the peace of home enters the roar of the mart.<br>Barter whilst day be day, ere night, when no man may buy!<br>Nothing too high or low in a world of culture and art!<br>This is the crowning age, born of the centuries fled<br>Age of “Sweetness and Light”—now that the gods are dead! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Souls of the mighty dead who lived and died for the right,<br>Genius inspired of heaven to battle for human need—<br>These are the days of the dawn, the dawn of diviner light,<br>When the child at its mother’s breast is lisping the modern creed—<br>If haply thine eyes may gaze on the paths which thy feet have trod,<br>Behold, in a godless age, we have sought and found us a god! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Deep from a million throats rises the strain sublime—<br>“Justice is for the rich, patience is for the poor ;<br>Wealth is the only good, want is the only crime;<br>Beauty is for the old if but the price be sure.”<br>Deep in the whole world’s heart festers the cursèd creed.<br>Yea, though the gods be dead, we have found us a god indeed! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Better the clash of steel and the flag of battle unfurled!<br>Better the roar of guns and death for the future’s sake!<br>Than that the curse of Gold should canker the heart of the world.<br>Where is the voice of the leader? When will the people wake?<br>Nay! let us fold our hands! Madman, what fool would blight<br>The star of an age whose Christ is Moloch, the Ammonite? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nay! for the day draws near when all shall not worship Gold!<br>Honour shall not be bought, wealth shall not make the man.<br>All have not turned away from the truths which were loved of old!<br>All have not toiled in vain since the toil of the world began!<br>All have not laid their souls at the feet of the idol red.<br>Some have remembered God—now that the gods are dead</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Essex+Evans">George Essex Evans</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<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=395968" data-title="Auri Sacra Fames de George Essex Evans" data-description="Now that the gods are dead—where shall we find us a god?
Myths of the Greek Olympus have sunk in the surge of Time;
And Jehovah, the God of Wrath, who stayed the sun at His nod;
And Jesus, the Nazarene, preaching a dream sublime.
Worship and for..."></div>
</div>
</div>