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Many Words—One Truth (Poem)

A fire mist and a planet;
A crystal and a cell;
A jellyfish and a saurian,
And caves where the cavemen dwell;
Then a sense of law and beauty,
And a face turned from the clod—
Some call it Evolution,
And others call it God.

A haze on the far horizon,
The infinite tender sky;
The ripe, rich tints of the cornfields,
And the wild geese sailing high;
And all over upland and lowland
The charm of the golden rod—
Some of us call it Autumn,
And Others call it God.

Like the tide of a crescent sea beach,
When the moon is new and thin,
Into our hearts high yearnings
Come welling and surging in—
Come from the mystic ocean
Whose rim no foot has trod—
Some of us call it Longing,
And others call it God.

A picket frozen on duty,
A mother starved for her brood,
Socrates drinking the hemlock,
And Jesus on the rood;
The million who, humble and nameless,
The straight, hard pathway trod—
Some call it Consecration,
And others call it God.

We need not punish ourselves with "righteous indignation." No indignation can be righteous.
The ways of wisdom are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.
—Charles B. Newcomb
Wisdom hath four faces, and, looking out all directions, she comprehendeth the whole duty of man, and perceiveth the constitution of the universe.


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William Herbert Carruth

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