TRUTH'S GUIDING STAR
In the dim twilight of our troubled life.
Where none may see with vision wholly dear,
And most must tread a path with pitfalls rife,
Where scarce a star their gloomy path doth cheer;
And those who loudliest do themselves proclaim
As sole custodians of the keys of truth,
Most oft are hollow windbags skilled to frame
Poor sophistries or specious falsehoods smooth,—
I find no better guidance than is found
In the assurance that whate'er may chance
A soul resolved truth's heights and depths to sound
Fearless, nor viewing consequence askance,
Is armed against sick thoughts and narrow creeds,
And all the ills that morbid fancy breeds.