O Soul

O soul thou hast drunk deep of beauty's ways

But where is silence and the calm heart's peace,

Surrender in these swiftly passing days

When shall the tiresome sense-life's traffic cease?

The spark of aspiration grown a flame

Wavers still in the uncertain light

Of human interaction and the game

Of clashing egos might on blinded might.

God's plan lies hid or none can yet be seen

But an ancient gladness ripples through the soul,

One feels an unnamed guidance gently wean

The spirit from mind's overworn control.

Soon shall a touch surprise our mortal soil

And justify the ages' patient toil.