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Chapter LXIV

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A new conversion, say you?—call it so.
The truth converts one oft, if he be true.
The true man loves his own, and fights for it;
And, since his own is little and God’s is large,
He often fights to fall. Yet ranks on high
Now throng with heroes, whose too slender blades
Were wielded but for slender causes once;
Nor sheathed, ere flying shatter’d from their grasp,
Till truth they fought had proven too strong for them.
Then, when they knew themselves, and knew the truth,
And knew its mercy too, they loved the truth,
And came to be its champions, evermore.
So now with me: rebellious though I was,
Rebellion wrought my rescue. Truth triumphant
Enlisted duty for a loyalty
That made all life seem lordlike. Work began.
Thank God, we all have heads above our hearts;
And, if we let them reason with us well,
They rule us for our best.

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Ballads and Other PoemsChapter LXIV

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