TRUTH

By John Masefield

Man with his burning soul

Has but an hour of breath

To build a ship of Truth

In which his soul may sail,

Sail on the sea of death.

For death takes toll

Of beauty, courage, youth,

Of all but Truth.

Life's city ways are dark,

Men mutter by; the wells

Of the great waters moan.

O death, O sea, O tide,

The waters moan like bells.

No light, no mark,

The soul goes out alone

On seas unknown.

Stripped of all purple robes,

Stripped of all golden lies,

I will not be afraid.

Truth will preserve through death;

Perhaps the stars will rise,

The stars like globes.

The ship my striving made

May see night fade.