Truth leads us to that Fountain, pure and sweet,
Where songs of deathless harmony arise,
Where Beauty's being greets our spirit-eyes,
And soul's desire and heaven's fulfilment meet.
There find we Love enthroned in Mercy's seat,
The golden glory of diviner skies
Enfolding her with light that never dies—
All these we find, if Truth but guide our feet.
But ah, what find we when we choose our guide
Not wisely? Wandering, indeterminate ways,
Mesmeric clouds surcharged with personal sense,
Vague, aimless paths that tempt us far and wide,
And mad ambition, wild for power and praise,
Till Love, though near, seems fled forever hence.
