posted on 2024-04-05, 13:40authored byFirst World War Poetry Digital Archive Project Team
<p dir="ltr"> As Jesus and his followers<br> Upon a Sabbath morn<br> Were walking by a wheat field<br> They plucked the ears of corn.<br> They plucked it, they rubbed it,<br> They blew the husks away,<br> Which grieved the pious Pharisees<br> Upon the Sabbath day.<br> And Jesus said, 'A riddle<br> Answer if you can,<br> Was man made for the Sabbath<br> Or Sabbath made for man?'<br> I do not love the Sabbath,<br> The soapsuds and the starch,<br> The troops of solemn people<br> Who to Salvation march.<br> I take my book, I take my stick<br> On the Sabbath day,<br> In woody nooks and valleys<br> I hide myself away,<br> To ponder there in quiet<br> God's Universal Plan,<br> Resolved that church and Sabbath<br> Were never made for man.</p>