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Poem	When young I was an Atheist, Yea, pompous as a pigeon No opportunity I missed To satirize religion. I sneered at Scripture, scoffed at Faith, I blasphemed at believers: Said I: "There's nothing after Death,-- Your priests are just deceivers." In middle age I was not so Contemptuous and caustic. Thought I: "There's much I do not know: I'd better be agnostic. The hope of immortality 'Tis foolish to be flouting." So in the end I came to be A doubter of my doubting. Now I am old, with steps inclined To hesitate and falter; I find I get such peace of mind Just sitting by an altar. So Friends, don't scorn the family pew, The preachments of the kirks: Religion may be false or true, But by the Lord!--it works.
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