 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
TO SINCERITY
O sweet sincerity!—
Where modern methods be
What scope for thine and thee?
Where modern methods be
What scope for thine and thee?
Life may be sad past saying,
Its greens for ever graying,
Its faiths to dust decaying;
Its greens for ever graying,
Its faiths to dust decaying;
And youth may have foreknown it,
And riper seasons shown it,
But custom cries: “Disown it:
And riper seasons shown it,
But custom cries: “Disown it:
“Say ye rejoice, though grieving,
Believe, while unbelieving,
Behold, without perceiving!”
Believe, while unbelieving,
Behold, without perceiving!”
—Yet, would men look at true things,
And unilluded view things,
And count to bear undue things,
And unilluded view things,
And count to bear undue things,
The real might mend the seeming,
Facts better their foredeeming,
And Life its disesteeming.
Facts better their foredeeming,
And Life its disesteeming.
February 1899.
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |