but the men that drink the blood of God go singing to their shame

Their gods were sadder than the sea,
Gods of a wandering will,
Who cried for blood like beasts at night,
Sadly, from hill to hill.

“…The men of the East may spell the stars,
And times and triumphs mark,
But the men signed of the cross of Christ
Go gaily in the dark.”

“The men of the East may search the scrolls
For sure fates and fame,
But the men that drink the blood of God
Go singing to their shame.”

“…But you and all the kind of Christ
Are ignorant and brave,
And you have wars you hardly win
And souls you hardly save.”

From “The Ballad of the White Horse” by
G.K. Chesterton.

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