with all our hearts we praise you whom ye hate,

   high souls that hate us; for our hopes are higher,

   and higher than yours the goal of our desire,

   though high your ends be as your hearts are great.

   Your world of Gods and Kings, of shrine and state,

   was of the night when hope and fear stood nigher,

   wherein man walked by light of stars and fire

   till man by day stood equal to his fate.

 

   Honor not hate we give you, love not fear,

   last prophets of past kind who fill the dome,

   of great dead gods with wrath and wail, nor hear

   time's word and man's: "Go honored hence, go home,

   night's childless children; here your hour is done;

   pass with the stars, and leave us with the sun."

                 -swinburne