 | The Poetry of Real Life |  |
112
HOW TO SEEK TRUTH.
Before a daisy in the grass I bendMy head in awe: I could not pluck it thence
Without a feeling of deep reverence,
As something God has made for a wise end!
My whole mind it requires to comprehend
The least work of Divine Intelligence,
My whole heart, with all feelings deep, intense,
Expression to its loveliness to lend!
But not so is it with the works of Man—
On these I boldly lay my hand, on creeds
And dogmas, for these come within my span—
Therefore with these articulate blasts I fan
The chaff of Custom from Truth's genuine seeds,
Like the great wind, that where it listeth speeds!
| The Poetry of Real Life | |