Author Arthur Edward Waite Our hearts, disdainful in these days, repentThat poor ambition and unwise content,Which, in the midst of veil and semblance, leftThe soul of true realities bereftAnd those prerogatives of human mindWhereby the soul at last leaves veils behind. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments