Page:Impressions- A Book of Verse.djvu/71

 THE SOUL'S SELF

Y friend, do you believe I rate my soul As better than it is?—Then let it be,— Nor rob me of the nobler part of me. Better a half truth than a lying whole, I am that part I would myself conceive. 'Tis through such errors martyrs face the flame Smiling, and keep down cowardice for shame Since they in God and in themselves believe!

What is the Rose? 'T is not a thorny bush, But June incarnate bidding hearts rejoice; This small brown bird is not the woodland thrush, But all the summer's sweetness in a voice; The soul's true self is that which closest lies To the great silent heart whence all things rise.