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[This page was loose amongst her poems, so it is possible that it is the last two verses to another poem]

Each man makes his own God,
Or if his brain is slow,
He borrows one from all the Gods
Created years ago.
For minds are smal and so are Gods
And heaven is a dream...........
It is the cruelest tyranny
That one should be supreme.

Yea, men are fools creating Gods
As small and weak as thought,
While brotherhood and commonsense
Are left lying here to rot.
For the forces that began the whole
Are not for men to style,
But we have the power in our hearts
To make the whole worth while.