Talk not of temples; there is one
Built without hands, to mankind given;
Its lamps are the meridian sun
And all the stars of heaven;
Its walls are the cerulean sky;
Its floor the earth so green and fair;
The dome its vast immensity;
All nature worships there.
The Alps arrayed in stainless snow,
The Andean ranges yet untrod,
At sunrise and at sunset glow
Like altar-fires to God.
A thousand fierce volcanoes blaze,
As if with hallowed victims rare;
And thunder lifts its voice in praise;
All nature worships there.
The ocean heaves resistlessly,
And pours his glittering treasure forth;
His waves, the priesthood of the sea,
Kneel on the shell-gemmed earth,
And there emit a hollow sound,
As if they murmured praise and prayer;
On every side 'tis holy ground;
All nature worships there.
The cedar and the mountain pine,
The willow on the fountain's brim,
The tulip and the eglantine,
In reverence bend to Him;
The song-birds pour their sweetest lays
From tower and tree and middle air;
The rushing river murmurs praise;
All nature worships there!
-- David Vedder
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