A vale of tears, a wilderness of woe, A sad unmeaning mystery of strife; Reason with Passion strives, and Feeling ever Battles with Conscience, clear eyed arbiter. Thus spake I in sad mood not long ago, To my dear father, of this human life, Its jars and phantasies. Soft answered he, With soul of love strong as a mountain river: We make ourselves. Son, you are what you are Neither by fate nor providence nor cause External: all unformed humanity Waiteth the stamp of individual laws; And as you love and act, the plastic spirit Doth the impression evermore inherit. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PITY OF IT by THOMAS HARDY A DIALOGUE BETWEEN TWO SHEPHERDS IN PRAISE OF ASTRAEA by MARY SIDNEY HERBERT TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE FIRST DAY: THE LEGEND OF RABBI BEN LEVY by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO GOD AND IRELAND TRUE by ELLEN O'LEARY LOVE AND AGE by THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 83. YA MALIK by EDWIN ARNOLD |