Strange contemplations in a restless soul
Are not to be too much esteemed. They bubble
Up from uncharted depths which daily roll
With intimations of unpresent trouble.
Let them alone; they need not be a care
For any heart well-tutored and self-sure.
And all such hearts are always well-aware
Of random problems which they must endure,
This being one. No one can be all peace
Or emptied utterly of what-might-be;
Such minor provocations do not cease,
But are so little that hearts can be free
From them by simply saying "No. I know
Myself, and that is not how I will go."
No comments:
Post a Comment