Author John Boyle O'Reilly I care not for the outer voice That deals out praise or blame; I could not with the world rejoice Nor bear its doom of shame— But when the Voice within me speaks The truth to me is known; He sees himself who inward seeks— The riches are his own. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 3 (2 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments