WHO is there but at times has seen, While his past days before him stand, In all the chances which have been, The guidance of a hidden Hand, Which still has ruled his growing life, Through weal and woe, through joy and pain, Through fancied good, through useless strife, And empty pleasure sought in vain; Which often has withheld the meed He longed for once, with yearnings blind, And given the truest prize indeed, The harvest of a blessed mind And so accepts the common lot Content, whate'er the Ruler would, Since all that has been, or has not, Springs from a hidden root of good? * * * * Yet some there are maybe to-day, Whose childhood at the mother's knee Was taught to bow itself and pray, Nor ever thirsted to be free, Who now, 'mid warring voices loud, Have lost the faith they held before, Nor through the jangling of the crowd Can hear the earlier message more. A brute Fate vexes them, the reign Of dumb laws, speeding onward still, Regardless of the waste and pain, Which all the labouring earth do fill. They look to see the rule of Right; They find it not, and in its stead But slow survivals, born of Might, And all the early Godhead dead; They see it not, and droop and faint And are unhappy, doubting God; Yet every step their feet have trod Was trodden before them by a saint. * * * * Oh, doubting soul, look up, behold The eternal heavens above thy head, The solid earth beneath, its mould Compacted of the unnumbered dead. Here the eternal problems grow, And with each day are solved and done, When some spent life, like melting snow, Breathes forth its essence to the sun. As death is, life is -- without end; Wrong with right mingles, joy with pain; Forbid two meeting streams to blend, 'Twere not more hopeless, nor more vain. Though Death with Life, though Wrong with Right, Are bound within the scheme of things, Yet can our souls, on soaring wings, Gain to a loftier purer height, Where death is not, nor any life, Nor right nor wrong, nor joy nor pain; But changeless Being, lacking strife, Doth through all change, unchanged remain. Should Wrong prevail o'er all the earth, 'Twere nought if only we discern The one great truth, which if we learn, All else beside is little worth. That Right, is that which must prevail, If not here, there, if not now, then, Is the one Truth which shall not fail, For all the doubts and fears of men. What if a myriad ages still Of wrong and pain, of waste and blood, Confuse our thought, triumphant Good At length, at last, our souls can fill With such assurance as the Voice Which from the fiery mountain pealed, And bade the kneeling hosts rejoice That God was in His laws revealed. Nay even might our though conceive The final victory of Ill, Not so, were it folly to believe That Right is higher, purer still. Who knows the Eternal "Ought" knows well That whoso loves and seeks the Right, For him God shines with changeless light, Ay, to the lowest deeps of Hell. And whoso knoweth God indeed, The fixed foundations of his creed Know neither changing nor decay, Though all creation pass away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BAD CHILD'S BOOK OF BEASTS: INTRODUCTION by HILAIRE BELLOC I'VE NEVER SEEN SUCH A REAL HARD TIME BEFORE' by HAYDEN CARRUTH BATTLE OF BRITAIN by CECIL DAY LEWIS MARIA CALLAS, THE WOMAN BEHIND THE LEGEND* by MADELINE DEFREES COSMOPOLITE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 5. THE DANCING GIRL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |