THE man of power rejoicing cries, "I can;" "I may," the man of pleasure; but we trust, And all the world trusts with us, still the man Hearing a different voice, who says, "I must." O Conscience, Conscience, how we need thee now! Wind, fire, and earthquake pass; the time abounds In these great voices; but, oh, where art thou? Is thy voice lost amid life's grosser sounds? Or art thou fled across the golden bars Of evening with thy purer light to shine Somewhere far off, beyond the quiet stars, Far off, and leave us without guide or sign? Not so; earth's towers and battlements decay; Thrones tremble and fall; old sceptres lose control: But, as God lives, thou livest; thou wilt stay, O Conscience, God's vicegerent in the soul! We are thy bondmen, and thy ways are good; Thou art what makes us greater than the dust We came from; and still, howsoe'er we would, Thy law is ever on us and we must. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHILD'S PRAYER [OR, HYMN] by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS HOLY THURSDAY, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE TO CHLOE WHO FOR HIS SAKE WISHED HERSELF YOUNGER by WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT FOR LACK OF GOLD by ADAM AUSTIN THREE SONNETS WRITTEN IN MID-CHANNEL: 3 by ALFRED AUSTIN EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 9. LOVE A TICKLISH GAME by PHILIP AYRES BLUEBEARD by RUTH FITCH BARLETT STANZAS TO AN AFFECTIONATE AND PIOUS PARENT, ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD by BERNARD BARTON |