Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HOUSE OF GOD, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE HOUSE OF GOD, by                    
First Line: "prone upon the earth, in prayer, the weary nanac fell"
Last Line: "where, crowned with deathless praise, his holy house is not!'"
Subject(s): Clergy;god;religion; Priests;rabbis;ministers;bishops;theology


PRONE upon the earth, in prayer, the weary Nánác fell,
Filled with all blessed thoughts of God;
Turned toward the sacred Mecca were his dusty feet,
And rested on the soft green sod.
When, lo! there passed a saintly Moslem priest that way,
And cried, "Base unbeliever, dost thou dare to pray,
Thy graceless feet extended toward God's city fair?"
But Nánác thus made answer, "Is not every-where
God's city? Find, if thou canst, the accursed spot
Where, crowned with deathless praise, His holy house is not!"





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