I WHEN we have thrown off this old suit, So much in need of mending, To sink among the naked mute, Is that, think you, our ending? We follow many, more we lead, And you who sadly turf us, Believe not that all living seed Must flower above the surface. II Sensation is a gracious gift, But were it cramped to station, The prayer to have it cast adrift Would spout from all sensation. Enough if we have winked to sun, Have sped the plough a season; There is a soul for labour done Endureth fixed as reason. III Then let our trust be firm in Good, Though we be of the fasting; Our questions are a mortal brood, Our work is everlasting. We children of Beneficence Are in its being sharers; And Whither vainer sounds than Whence, For word with such wayfarers. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUPREME by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A STRANGE MEETING by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE TALENTED MAN by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 49 by PHILIP SIDNEY PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 13. AL-BARI by EDWIN ARNOLD A POSTSCRIPT by BERNARD BARTON PSALM 133 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: CHRIST'S SYMPATHY by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |