Oh, but in making man
God overreached himself, and gave away
His Godhead. He must now depend on man
For what man’s brain, creative and divine,
Can give Him. Man stands equal with Him now,
Partner and rival. Say God needs a church,
As here in Canterbury - and say he calls together
By miracle, stone, wood, and metal, builds
A church of sorts; my church he cannot make.
Another, but not that. This church is mine
And none but I, not even God, can build it.
Me hath he made vice-gerent of Himself,
And were I lost, something unique were lost
Irreparably; my heart, my blood, my brain
Are in the stone. God’s crown of matchless works
Is not complete without my stone, my jewel,
Creation’s nonpareil.