Classic Poem

Why should you look and listen at the keyhole when the door of the temple is unlocked?
Why should you take of the lords god surreptitiously that which they offer you with an open hand?
The table is spread within, you hear divine voices, your lords god wait till you assume their equal place:
Turn the knob of the door, enter, be at home.

Over the cliff rushed the mad, impatient waters,
Far in the gorge with strenuous noisy passion flung,
Then passed in ordered flood and fed the farms.