TWO selves I am: unlike these seem to be As west and east: One is the prophet in me, as in thee, And one the priest. The prophet lets the future mould his plan; The priest the past: The prophet marches in the column's van; The priest comes last. The prophet takes the spirit for a guide; The priest his book: One learns the truth that brushes by his side; One does not look. The prophet lifts his heart up when he prays; The priest his hands: The prophet, acting, thinks; the priest obeys, Nor understands. The prophet, preaching, keeps the goal in view; The priest his creed: The prophet stirs; the priest, when words are through, Forgets the deed. Something the prophet suffers—scorn of lip, Or stroke of rod— But gains the vision, wins the fellowship And life of God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOW BAROMETER by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES LIKE A LAVEROCK IN THE LIFT by JEAN INGELOW ON THE PASSING OF THE LAST FIRE HORSE FROM MANHATTAN ISLAND by KENNETH SLADE ALLING CHRISTMAS, 1917 by BRENT DOW ALLINSON THE HERO OF VIMY; AN INCIDENT OF THE GREAT WAR by BRENT DOW ALLINSON CHARACTERS: MR. AND MRS. EDWARDS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |