OCR Text |
Show The Skeptic's Confession. I am weary of disbelieving; why should I wound my love To pleasure a sophist's pride in a graven grav-en image of truth? I will go back to my home, with the elouds and the stars above. And the heaven I used to know, and the God of my buried youth. I will go back and believe tn the deep old foolish tales. And pray the sweet old pVayers that I learned at my mother's knee. Where the Sabbath tolls Its peace tho' the breathless mountain vales. And the sunset's evening hymn hallows the wistful eea. Alfred Noyes in London Spectator, j |