And is the Great Cause lost beyond recall? Have all the hopes of ages come to nought? Is Life no more with noble meaning fraught? Is Life but Death, and Love its funeral pall? Maybe. But still on bended knees I fall, Filled with a faith no preacher ever taught. Oh God -- my God, by no false prophet wrought, I believe still, in despite of it all! Let go the myths and creeds of groping men. This clay knows nought -- the Potter understands. I own that Power divine beyond my ken, And still can leave me in His shaping hands. But, O my God, that madest me to feel! Forgive the anguish of the turning wheel. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LISBON PACKET by GEORGE GORDON BYRON EILEEN AROON by GERALD JOSEPH GRIFFIN THE SUPPLIANT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO SOME LADIES [ON RECEIVING A CURIOUS SHELL] by JOHN KEATS THE LOST CHORD by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER MUSIC OF HUNGARY by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH A LAMENT FOR PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |