Classic Poem

A FABLE .

I N a far fair land, in the early days,
Ere a purer faith was born,
Men simple-souled and of artless ways
Knelt down to the sun, and their song of praise
Was lifted to him each morn.

For they saw, as the days did come and go,
That he loved the sons of men, —
That for them he had taught the corn to grow,
The fruits to ripen, and flowers to blow,
And Earth to conceive again.

But a wise man came, with his soulless creed,
Narrow and hard and cold, —
He had weighed their sun, and measured his speed,
And reckoned his years to a day, indeed, —
And he scoffed at the faith of old.

He made him a lens of the crystal glass,
And steadily bent his gaze
" There are spots on the sun, " he cried. " Alas
For your god! he is all one murky mass
Where now be his glorious rays? "

But the simple people made answer none:
They saw in the wise man's eyes
That the centred rays of the angry sun
Had smitten him blind; and they knew no one
Is so simple as the wise.