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60. | [LX. Is grief a weakness of the mind] |
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The book of the dead | ||
129
[LX. Is grief a weakness of the mind]
Is grief a weakness of the mind,
A useless, discontented strain
Against the galling links that bind
Our lives in fate's remorseless chain?
A useless, discontented strain
Against the galling links that bind
Our lives in fate's remorseless chain?
Does God, with hard, averted ear,
Refuse to hear His children cry?
Does every sob and sliding tear
Draw down the brow upon His eye?
Refuse to hear His children cry?
Does every sob and sliding tear
Draw down the brow upon His eye?
If this be so, in vain you say,
He in His image fashioned me,
And breathed within my sentient clay
His fervent immortality.
He in His image fashioned me,
And breathed within my sentient clay
His fervent immortality.
I reason back from man to God,
With God's own warrant for my creed,
And delving in the dusty clod,
I find at last the primal seed;
With God's own warrant for my creed,
And delving in the dusty clod,
I find at last the primal seed;
130
And cry, that every throb of pain,
The present and the after-smart,
Is echoed o'er and o'er again
In God's vast, semi-human heart.
The present and the after-smart,
Is echoed o'er and o'er again
In God's vast, semi-human heart.
I keep this faith, to hearten dread,
That every tear of king or churl,
In pure and honest sorrow shed,
Shines in God's crown a lucid pearl.
That every tear of king or churl,
In pure and honest sorrow shed,
Shines in God's crown a lucid pearl.
The book of the dead | ||