I KNOW not how the right may be: -- But I give thanks whene'er I see Down in the green slopes of the West Old Glastonbury's tower'd crest. I know not how the right may be: -- But I have oft had joy to see, By play of chance, my road beside, The cross on which the Saviour died. I know not how the right may be: -- But I loved once a tall elm tree, Because between its boughs on high That cross was open'd in the sky. I know not how the right may be: -- But I have shed strange tears to see, Passing an unknown town at night, In some warm chambers full of light, A mother and two children fair Kneeling with lifted hands at prayer. I know not how it is -- my boast Of Reason seems to dwindle down; And my mind seems down-argued most By freed conclusions not her own. I know not how it is -- unless Weakness and strength are near allied; And joys which most the spirit bless Are farthest off from earthly pride. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON GROWING OLD by JOHN MASEFIELD SONNET: 20 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE FOR YOU O DEMOCRACY by WALT WHITMAN THE STRANGER'S ALMS by HENRY ABBEY A BALLADE OF OTHER IDOLS by LEONARD BACON (1887-1954) A TRIBUTE TO WILL ROGERS AND WILEY POST by ROSETTA THORSON BEACHLER PAULO POST ORDINATIONEM by JOSEPH BEAUMONT FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: DIRGE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |