Wednesday, September 23, 2009

His way was right.

He writes in characters too grand
For our short sight to understand.
We catch but broken strokes,
And try to fathom all the mystery of withered hopes,
Of death, of life. The endless war,
The useless strife--but there.
With larger, clearer sight,
We shall see this: His way was right.
His way was right.

~John Oxenham

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