The soil of the land is holy,
Sacred to love and laughter.
But 't will only light the lowly,
Our skyey temple-rafter.
Others will deem the scene
Too desolate and dreary.
And hearts unschool'd and mean
Will find the worship weary.
But we will adore with tears
Earth below and sky above.
And anoint the perished years
With the unction of our love.