24.06.2007, 11:08
I deem that virtue but a thing of straw
That is not self-subsistent, needs the press
Of sharp-eyed custom, or the point of law
To teach it honour, justice, gentleness.
His soul is but a shadow who does well
Through lure of gifts or terror of the rod,
Some painted paradise or pictured hell,
Not for the love but for the fear of God.
Him only do I honour in whom right,
Not the sour product of some grudged control,
Flows from a Godlike habit, whose clear soul,
Bathed in the noontide of an inward light,
In its own strength and beauty is secure,
Too proud to lie, to proud to be impure.
That is not self-subsistent, needs the press
Of sharp-eyed custom, or the point of law
To teach it honour, justice, gentleness.
His soul is but a shadow who does well
Through lure of gifts or terror of the rod,
Some painted paradise or pictured hell,
Not for the love but for the fear of God.
Him only do I honour in whom right,
Not the sour product of some grudged control,
Flows from a Godlike habit, whose clear soul,
Bathed in the noontide of an inward light,
In its own strength and beauty is secure,
Too proud to lie, to proud to be impure.