The wonderful age of the world I sing—
The age of battery, coil and spring,
Of steam, and storage, and motored thing.
Though faith may slumber and art seem dead,
And all that is spoken has once been said,
And all that is written were best unread;
Though hearts are iron and thoughts are steel,
And all that has value is mercantile,
Yet marvellous truths shall the age reveal.
Ay, greater the marvels this age shall find
Than all the centuries left behind,
When faith was a bigot and art was blind.
Oh, sorry the search of the world for gods,
Through faith that slaughters and art that lauds,
While reason sits on its throne and nods.
But out of the leisure that men will know,
When the cruel things of the sad earth go,
A Faith that is Knowledge shall rise and grow.
In the throb and whir of each new machine
Thinner is growing the veil between
The visible earth and the worlds unseen.
The True Religion shall leisure bring;
And Art shall awaken and Love shall sing:
Oh, ho! for the age of the motored thing!