THE BOY OUT OF CHURCH by ROBERT GRAVES
As Jesus and his followers Upon a Sabbath morn Were walking by a wheat field They plucked the ears of corn.
They plucked it, they rubbed it, They blew the husks away, Which grieved the pious Pharisees Upon the Sabbath day.
And Jesus said, 'A riddle Answer if you can, Was man made for the Sabbath Or Sabbath made for man?'
I do not love the Sabbath, The soapsuds and the starch, The troops of solemn people Who to Salvation march.
I take my book, I take my stick On the Sabbath day, In woody nooks and valleys I hide myself away,
To ponder there in quiet God's Universal Plan, Resolved that church and Sabbath Were never made for man.
|Author||Graves, Robert (1895-1985)|
|Title||The Boy Out Of Church|
|Item Date||(1995, 1997, 1999)|
|Copyright||The Robert Graves Copyright Trust|
|Digital repository||The First World War Poetry Digital Archive|