Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod; They have left unstained what there they found - Freedom to whorship God.

And the heavy night hung dark, The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.

The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed.

I had a hat. It was not all a hat,- Part of the brim was gone: Yet still I wore it on.

I am terrified of restrictive religious doctrine, having learned from history that when men who adhere to any form of it are in control, common men like me are…

Although the mass of the people accepted the white man's God, either under physical duress or because he seemed more powerful than their own Gods, they never a…

What has been presented as Christianity during these nineteen centuries is only a beginning, full of mistakes, not full blown Christianity springing from the s…