Progress.

Let there be many windows to your soul,              That all the glory of the universe              May beautify it. Not the narrow pane              Of one poor creed can catch the radiant rays              That shine from countless sources. Tear away              The blinds of superstition; let the light              Pour through fair windows broad as Truth itself              And high as God.          Why should the spirit peer              Through some priest-curtained orifice, and grope              Along dim corridors of doubt, when all              The splendor from unfathomed seas of space              Might bathe it with the golden waves of Love?              Sweep up the debris of decaying faiths;              Sweep down the cobwebs of worn-out beliefs,              And throw your soul wide open to the light              Of Reason and of Knowledge. Tune your ear              To all the wordless music of the stars              And to the voice of Nature, and your heart              Shall turn to truth and goodness as the plant              Turns to the sun. A thousand unseen hands              Reach down to help you to their peace-crowned heights.              And all the forces of the firmament              Shall fortify your strength. Be not afraid              To thrust aside half-truths and grasp the whole.