Weltanschauung
Pray you do not think this open-ended
Find this plea both frail and winded
With which I dig one desperate trench
From which I make one last defense
And sweat, for whether dock or bench
The jury still deliberates.
Beg, do not think it trite and empty
But little pleasant rhymes with God
And even littler still with Jesus
Except worn cliches and the very odd
With which we all find disagreements.
Here, I do entreat you think
If for but a short and lonesome while
Is any subject more abstract to write,
Yet clearly put in common style
Than that though we strive with all our might
Remain meanest beggars of the night
Still needing One to save us,
To step into the bleak and claim us
When we would not claim ourselves.
All we thought was altruistic
Revealed as merely pantheistic
For too much good without a Name
Is really quite as much the same
As having done no good at all.
For if goodness is our claim to fame
There is little goodness in it.
Yet one day, on a someday
With a voice too loud to hear
And a sound too soft to miss
By and by it shall be made clear,
Resounds, "Be at peace and know, my dears."
Indeed, take heart, for Hope is here.
No comments:
Post a Comment