THE CROWN.

Symbol of all that's mean and base in man— Of pompous pride and cringing cowardice, Of titled folly and of plodding slaves, Of groaning labor robbed by cunning knaves, Of priests and lordlings, an infernal clan, Who live by force, and fraud, and artifice. The crown, associated with the cross, Is held up by the church as the reward Of souls that blindly follow in the lead Of priests who advocate a stupid creed! "A crown of gold," and nothing else, for loss Of common sense, full payment can accord! "No cross, no crown"—self-evidently true, But not in the delusive sense implied; If men beneath the cross would not bow down, No devil, pope, or king, could wear a crown; But they will wear it all the ages through That men are willing to be crucified. A crown denotes that some usurper rules, And subjects, weak and ignorant, submit; But in a realm where all are equal, free, No one can rule, none can submissive be; But hell and tyrants love to torture fools, And only fools will long consent to it. The weak in mind, abused and plundered here, Have silly hopes that they will all be kings, Because the sons of Mammon tell them so; While to the yoke they bow their necks below, They praise a tyrant in another sphere Who is to crown them over underlings! When hell's dark agents nailed the Nazarene Upon the cross they, mocking, hailed him king; Since then the mockery they have kept up, And all his friends have drank the bitter cup, And worn the crown of thorns, and felt the keen Thrust of the spear, and heard the taunting fling. All seekers after truth, and right, and fact, The men of science and the thinkers bold, Are friends of Christ, and seek to do his work, By letting in the light mid darkness murk, That shrouds the cross and crown; but every act Is met by hell's dark minions, as of old. With faggot and the prison's loathsome cell, They've done their worst to stifle human thought And stop research amid the fields of lore, Their plea that it is impious to explore The realms of Nature's secrets, or to tell Aught to the mass of men by priests not taught. Hell to the world holds up a God of wrath— Omniscient tyrant, sitting on a throne, Wearing a royal diadem of gold, While fawn around and praise him throngs untold In numbers, who by adoration hath Secured his special favors as their own! All who refuse this homage are cast out From Heaven and happiness forevermore, Their souls to burn in torments without end Or hope that they can ever make amend For harboring on earth an honest doubt, And failing their "creator" to adore! And the offense is in the disbelief, For no good thoughts or deeds can help the soul; Nor good intentions, or most honest aims Can save it from the everlasting flames; But blind consent alone can banish grief From one submissive to the priest's control! This God is arbitrary, full of freaks, Damns without reason, without worth rewards; An upright life with him no favor finds; He fettered sinners with delight unbinds, And sets them free, but on the upright wreaks His vengeance—them his special hate accords! To those who ask for bread he giveth stone, Or empty promises he may fulfill In realms of future life—sometime, somewhere, And thus the soul feeds on deceit and air As long as flesh hangs to the aching bone— Till all is sacrificed that earth can kill. This is no teaching of the Nazarene; It is a scheme of hell to chain the mind And keep mankind subjected to its sway, And to its priests and tools an easy prey— A plot the souls of men to make unclean And toward perdition willingly inclined. Who cannot see that hell set up this God For purpose foul, and crowned him King of All?— A model of the human lord and king Who rule below and make their subjects bring Homage and pelf to buy approving nod, While in their train the meaner creatures crawl. His favorites, the meanest of mankind, Are quite content the people should believe That they will win a crown beyond the grave, If they will only be content to slave And bow to robber rule, nor seek to find The light which might their faith here undeceive. To make the picture more like earth and real, As kings on earth have rivals to the throne, So God must have a rival dark and proud Who, like himself, can never fill a shroud; But, fiercely overthrown in the ideal, This rival has no mercy to him shown. 'Tis all infernal—a delusive spell Thrown o'er the minds of men to keep them down; In fear the Nazarene, with teachings pure, The mental blindness of the world should cure, And break the hoary reign of brutal hell, It mockingly presented him a crown. True, 'twas a crown of thorns; but, mocking still, It gave a spirit crown, and made him Son And equal of the tyrant it had made, And in fantastic glory had arrayed, To rule the saints submissive to the will Of those who church and state in secret run. Priests granted to him supernatural powers, And then assumed to wield those powers themselves; By treachery, and trick, and sophistry, They made the multitude believe that he Claimed worship for himself in gilded towers Or churches; so the mass submits and delves. The world is told that men should bear the cross Of robbery, oppression, want and woe, On earth, that they a crown above may wear, And ease their souls in everlasting prayer Unto a God who shall repay all loss By special gifts to those who bow most low! The church has always taught submission here, Not to the laws of being, but of state; Hell calls for "stronger governments" to rob And hold in terror the uprising mob Which it provokes and seeks to rule thro' fear— A horrid rule of wrong, and force, and hate. As Christ's pure teachings were so true and plain That reason must accept them, to obscure Their meaning hell and earth conspired And made confusion, while their minions fired With mad ambition and the love of gain All hearts that Mammon's bribes could buy or lure. And with success they carried out their scheme, And made the world do homage unto hell; With God to threaten vengeance unto all, And Devil to affright them at their call, With blood of God's own Son—a horrid stream— To wash men's souls, they have succeeded well! To further aid their scheme, the "Holy Ghost" Came down to work with its mysterious spell, And fill with frenzy every heart and brain That thoughtlessly would join Delusion's train, Until the fire of zeal was hot to roast The sinner here and endlessly in hell! Christ taught utmost fulfillment of the law, Which special favors could not set aside; His was no kingdom of this world, no scheme Of courtiers or of crown; no idle dream Of weak and wicked selfishness, to awe The mass and rear a structure based on pride. He founded on the rock of truth and fact, And everlasting principles of good; He bade men love each other and be just In all their dealings, to avoid all lust, And be sincere and true in every act, Rememb'ring all are of one Brotherhood. No lead or following of the blind he taught, Nor a self-immolating flag unfurled; His enemies, with subtlety most keen, By torturing his language make it mean The very opposite of what he sought To teach unto a blind, unthinking world. He wanted men to use their reason here, In all things of this world and world to come— To seek for truth, for truth would make them free, Nor bend to any power known the knee; And he abhorred the rule of coward fear, That's born of hell, and strikes the reason dumb. Quickly the Nazarene refused the bribe Proffered by Satan's hand upon the Mount; He turned indignantly from world and crown, Rebuking with a stern and honest frown The tempter and his cunning; but the tribe Of Mammon since has grown beyond all count. If all men saw, like Christ, through Satan's wiles, And promptly gave rebuke to his demand, The crown would crumble and the cross decay, And Mammon's bribes be counted worthless clay; A world redeemed would roll in Heaven's smiles, With plenty, peace and joy on every hand. What shall it profit man the world to gain And yield his soul thereby to hell's control? To give is far more blest than to receive— For giving to the needy doth relieve The giver of a surplus that would pain, If not bestowed, by clogging of the soul. We channels of transmission are; the flow Of life is measured by what we transmit; If we doth freely give, in reason's bound, What we receive, and pass the blessings We gather strength and joy as on we go, Receiving more, the more the benefit. When men shall rise above the plane of clowns, And look upon this life with vision clear, With reason seeking for the better way That leads to Justice and to Freedom's sway, Then dupes and priests, then kings, and gods, and crowns, At last, will from this planet disappear. To worship an imaginary king, Makes subjects for the monarchs here on earth; The mind accustomed to submissive moods Is ready to receive the mental foods Which priests and parasites may choose to bring— Messes of potage for its rights of birth. Our God is light, intelligence, and love— Is reason, freedom, justice, and the truth; He does not rule through blind belief in creeds, But fact and judgment—good expressed in deeds Of brotherly assistance, and above All aims to subjugate the minds of youth. The God of orthodoxy doth delight In ways of darkness, superstition, fear; He bids all men their reason set aside And take, like birds with mouths spread open wide, Whatever priests, those messengers of night, See fit to drop into the gaping ear. He bids us bow to creeds and servile forms, And walk submissive under Mammon's reign; Before him all must bend the cringing knee, And shout his praise in fulsome minstrelsy; His followers no love of freedom warms; He rules them, all through penalty and pain. With ceremonies, rites, and cunning tricks, He seeks to captivate the human will; Thus far his agents have, alas! too well Succeeded in their wicked work of hell, Which at no subterfuge or falsehood sticks; They fill their mission with Satanic skill. They claim to represent the Nazarene And teach his doctrines, while they grossly lie In word and deed, and all his views pervert; He aimed to help the world; they aim to hurt; His yoke is easy and his path serene, While wearing theirs the soul must surely die. While he would have the world live out the law Of being as engraved in each true heart, And seen with vision clear by every mind That is to justice, truth and good inclined, They would subdue it, by a sense of awe, To arbitrary rule and selfish art. When men shall cease to worship wealth and might, And turn their backs on superstition's door; When reason lights her lamp, and equity Becomes the portion of the truly free; When Christ shall reign on earth through love and light, The rule of man and Mammon will be o'er. Then all machinery of Church and state Will drop aside as rubbish of the past; Then social harmony will take the place That human governments so much disgrace; The cruel reign of discord, born of hate, Will be reversed, and order reign at last. Then each will work for all instead of self, As faithful parents for their children toil; All will be educated in the right, All will by birth inherit living light; None will from duty turn for sordid pelf, And none will seek his neighbor to despoil. And there will be abundance everywhere, With want and fear of want forever gone; No more will men indulge in worldly lust; The aims of life will be above the dust; Then men the spirit life will seek and share, Their souls aglow with rays of Heaven's dawn. Oh! why has Christ been so misunderstood? Why will not men receive the light and live? The path is straight and plain unto the view, And by the light within each can pursue And reap its fruits of everlasting good, Which loving hands along the way will give. The growth is slow but sure, in strict accord With laws of our condition and our deeds; No miracles will help us in our task; If we would gain advancement, we must ask Through honest work, and upright thought and word, And not through cross or crown, beliefs or creeds. Dethrone all gods and send them down to hell, Banish all worship to the realms of night, Give freedom unto human thought and speech, Let every soul be its own church and teach The truths that from its inmost depths may well To aid in lifting up all souls to light. In that bright realm where all is fair and free The law is written in each beating heart; There each one does as seems good in his sight, And every one aspires to do the right; But no one there in worship bends the knee, Or acts through fear a superstitious part. Supreme desire for concord fills each breast, And every word and act with love is blest; No thought of wrong or self can enter there, But each with each and all desires to share; And he that shares his blessing with the rest Is richer made in joy and sweet content. There are no rulers there—no king to frown; No sacrifices are required or made; A sense of right and justice rules the realm, With love to prompt and reason at the helm; Harmonious thoughts and acts all discord drown With none to dictate, none to make afraid. No royal God there sits in pomp and state; No jeweled throne of gold can there be seen; No priest nor trembling devotee can raise An everlasting song of flatt'ring praise; No cross no crown; no courtier vain, elate; No slave with bending knee and cringing mien. No streets all paved with gold doth there appear; No harps of gold cloth twang an endless air; No trumpet-blast, by saint or angel blown, Doth split the ear with its commanding tone; No worshiping of God, or saint, or seer, No church, no priest, no pope, no king, no prayer. But all is love and harmony divine, With peace and happiness, and joy supreme; With endless progress and increasing light, And ever-widening freedom, while the right And truth, and good, and justice burn and shine In every brain and heart—a sacred gleam. Oh! blest abode, where each himself must rule And none e'er think of ruling others, while The light from higher sources ever beams, In gentle, life-invigorating streams, Upon the soul which, never out of school, Must ever bask in Wisdom's winning smile. Oh! let it come, this concord of the blest, And speedily, upon this earth of ours— That Mammon's throne may be at once o'erthrown, And all his idols broken—every one; That every soul upon the law may rest, Defying all the arts of wicked powers. And it will come, must come, or soon or late, And every heart will feel the quickening thrill; The hosts of night around the earth must fly To lower depths, the righteous mount on high; And then will end this reign of selfish will, Amid the blaze of the Harmonial Day.