BALLADE OF THE PAID PURITAN
Reading edition
In vain with whip and knotted cord The hirelings of hypocrisy Would make us comely for the Lord: Think ye God works through such as ye— Paid Puritan, plump Pharisee, And lobbyist fingering his fat bill, Reeking of rum and bribery: God needs not you to work His will.
We know you whom you serve, abhorred Traducers of true piety, What tarnished gold is your reward In Washington and Albany; 'Tis not from God you take your fee, Another's purpose to fulfil, You that are God's worst enemy: God needs not you to work His will.
Not by the money-changing horde, Base traders in the sanctuary, Nor by fanatic fire and sword, Shall man grow as God wills him be; In his own heart a voice hath he That whispers to him small and still; God gives him eyes His good to see: God needs not you to work His will.
ENVOI
Dear Prince, a sinner's honesty Is more to God, much nearer still, Than the bribed hypocritic knee: God needs not you to work His will.