WHEN I would search the truths that in me burn, And mould them into rule and argument, A hundred reasoners cried, -- "Hast thou to learn Those dreams are scatter'd now, those fires are spent?" And, did I mount to simpler thoughts, and try Some theme of peace, 'twas still the same reply. Perplex'd, I hoped my heart was pure of guile, But judged me weak in wit, to disagree; But now, I see that men are mad awhile, And joy the Age to come will think with me: -- 'Tis the old history -- Truth without a home, Despised and slain, then rising from the tomb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRIENDSHIP by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE ICE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON L.E.L. by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI LARABELLE; CANTO FOURTH by LEVI BISHOP THE PIONEER by HENRY MEADE BLAND MUSIC ON CHRISTMAS MORNING by ANNE BRONTE TO EACH HIS DREAM by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON AIRS SUNG AT BROUGHAM CASTLE: THE LORDS WELCOME by THOMAS CAMPION |