POE
SONNETS.
Ir by the meaner measures we would prove , The secret soul of Truth's reality, How light our chances of success 0 love Of what we seek to prove, we see Alone in thy light clearly, for in thee We stand at centre, and our gaze is true.
All outer proofs live in the mystery, That, touching all things softly, adds the hue Whose presence postulates Truth's fairest light ; So that the seeker and the sought are such Companions, in the mystic circle of His might, Who made Truth Nature's friend, that when they touch, They know each other, in God's light indeed ; Nor any stranger's introduction need.
WE babble much of proof,—let us talk less ;
We can but prove the lesser, lower things,—
Things further from us ; when God's blessedness Dwells in as, as the-light in dew, it brings An instant recognition. How should I Stand outside self (one little half within), With testing-rod in hand, with " how" and " why " On the wise lip, and in this mood begin To measure out the half of self, and call The weak result the truth P Does not our need That clamours most for the Unknown, which Paul Declared at Athens once for ever, plead That, by its strong demand, its tears and cries, Too near ourselves for proof He ever lies P J. H.
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