Classic Poem

The Sanctum Sanctorum is the place of purification, and wretched is he who waits to strive with his sins before he has recourse to God .

F OUNDATIONS OF V ICTORY

A LITTLE while in the ways unknown—
 One little life—have I sought—
Or possibly many lives—to find
That truth of truth which can fill the mind;
Nor have I fear'd to stand alone
 In the lonely ways of thought.

The false lights came and the false lights went;
 I did not tarry for these;
The dreadful sense of a heart unfit—
Through its native earth—how I fought with it,
And the knowledge of days mis-spent
 In face of the mysteries!

If once, but once, I have sunk and said:
 “Yield, soul!” or, “The dream is done,
Because alone the untainted heart
Wins crowns I work for!” Then, Hope, depart!
But 'twas up with the stricken head,
 Still looking to meet the sun!

Therefore I trust that a soul on fire
 For weal has the wine-press trod,
And though my sins upon either hand,
In witness rising, against me stand,
They shall waste not my heart's desire,
 Which out of them leaps to God.
As time goes on, we desire more and more the white walls of Salem; but it should be remembered that the Eternal City is within .