I stood upon a highway



XXXIV.

I stood upon a highway,

And, behold, there came

Many strange peddlers.

To me each one made gestures,

Holding forth little images, saying,

"This is my pattern of God.

Now this is the God I prefer."

But I said, "Hence!

Leave me with mine own,

And take you yours away;

I can't buy of your patterns of God,

The little gods you may rightly prefer."