THE GIFT OF WISDOM by CARROLL RYAN

My spirit bids defiance to decay.
I am not old. This body may grow weak,
Its senses fail and all its wondrous powers
Collapse and sink in death, but I will rise
Immortal o'er the ruin and ascend
To join the host invisible to men
Sojourning here. As I have thought and toiled
To make myself fit for the company
Of god-like souls of those whom you call dead,
But who, I know, are living grand and free
In spheres transcendent, so I hope to be
Translated on my merits. If I've failed
In my high purpose, self-conquest, victory
O'er sordid things, low passions, mean desires,
Ambition for a place in men's esteem,
To that extent of failure I must share
The company of others like myself.
But there I will be satisfied, because
I know with kindred spirits I would be,
And go on striving, as I did on earth,
To rise to higher things.

For wisdom I
Have prayed and, like the sage of ancient days,
I found that wisdom is increase of sorrow.
But in that sorrow was a secret balm,
Laid on my heart in one swift flash of light
When I stood face to face with God alone.
For one ecstatic moment, Lo! the veil,
Which hides the mystery of life was drawn,
And the great deep to its remotest bound
Was all revealed.

My sorrow is no more;
I have no fear. I know, for I have seen
The orb ineffable, and am content.
Misfortune now may come, the tempest rage,
Pain, sorrow, suffering, the scorn of men,
Hunger and poverty, aye, Death itself,
O'erwhelm this mortal. I can bear them all,
Because I know their meaning and their end.
And when the time for my departure comes,
I'll cast away this robe of flesh, and rise
Triumphant in the love that gave to me
The gift of wisdom ere I left the earth.

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

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