And is the Great Cause lost beyond recall? Have all the hopes of ages come to nought? Is Life no more with noble meaning fraught? Is Life but Death, and Love its funeral pall? Maybe. But still on bended knees I fall, Filled with a faith no preacher ever taught. Oh God -- my God, by no false prophet wrought, I believe still, in despite of it all! Let go the myths and creeds of groping men. This clay knows nought -- the Potter understands. I own that Power divine beyond my ken, And still can leave me in His shaping hands. But, O my God, that madest me to feel! Forgive the anguish of the turning wheel. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON READING -- . by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE ARAB by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY FATHER WILLIAM [QUESTIONED], FR. ALICE IN WONDERLAND by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON TO ALISON CUNNINGHAM; FROM HER BOY by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SESTET SENT TO A FRIEND WITH A VOLUME OF TENNYSON by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH ON THE BACKWARDNESS OF THE SPRING 1771 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |