SECOND EDIT: Sermon on the Destruction of Icons

[ellajam]

Hi, thanks for posting this, I found the original effective even with its faults and have a few issues with the edit. I understand the issues others had with L4/5 but I loved the image and miss it. I would prefer an edit something along the lines of

From Eve in vines about her legs,
Like fetters forged in Paradise,
to heavy in His mother's arms
our God Himself a sack of rice.

or something better, but keeping that image.

I also prefer the line "Would bring to folly naive hearts." to the edit. While the line itself need rearranging the meaning for me was much more perceptive than that broad, preachy "wicked" in the edit.

I think the change from morbid to Pagan hits your target well, though the icons are both the change hits harder.

Just my two cents.

FIRST EDIT:
"... for five hundred years, during which religion was in a more prosperous condition, and a purer doctrine flourished, Christian churches were completely free from visible representations" - John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion

From Eve in vines about her legs,
Like fetters forged in Paradise,
To Saintly men in grief reposed,
We see the brass bull snort with life.

These are the idols John warned us
Would curse our flocks with wicked hearts.
If hammers be the rage of Christ
We all must break these Pagan arts.

From this meek house of stone I preach,
This pulpit fit for cloistered sheep,
And these bleak bricks will tell you now:
That Papist hearts will find no sleep.

ORIGINAL:
"... for five hundred years, during which religion was in a more prosperous condition, and a purer doctrine flourished, Christian churches were completely free from visible representations" - John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion

From Eve in vines about her legs,
Like fetters forged in Paradise,
To Saintly men in grief reposed,
And God Himself a sack of rice,
Slid limply in His mother's arms.

These are the idols John told us
Would bring to folly naive hearts.
If hammers be the rage of Christ,
Let men destroy these morbid arts.

I speak to thee from place of stone,
A pulpit fit for cloistered sheep,
And this dark stone will teach thee well:
That Papist hearts will find no sleep.