THE truth lies round about us, all Too closely to be sought, -- So open to our vision that 'T is hidden to our thought. We know not what the glories Of the grass, the flower, may be; We needs must struggle for the sight Of what we always see. Waiting for storms and whirlwinds, And to have a sign appear, We deem not God is speaking in The still small voice we hear. In reasoning proud, blind leaders of The blind, through life we go, And do not know the things we see, Nor see the things we know. Single and indivisible, We pass from change to change, Familiar with the strangest things, And with familiar, strange. We make the light through which we see The light, and make the dark: To hear the lark sing, we must be At heaven's gate with the lark. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT: SPRING by THOMAS NASHE A SUMMER NIGHT by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 43. ALL GRASP, ALL LOSE by PHILIP AYRES EIGHT VOLUNTEERS by LANSING C. BAILEY VIA LUCIS by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN THE WARTONS AND OTHER EARLY ROMANTIC LANDSCAPE-POETS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 46. FAREWELL TO JULIET (8) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |