Classic Poem

In controversial foul impureness
The peace that is thy light to thee
Quench not; in faith and inner sureness
Possess thy soul and let it be.

No violence—perverse, persistent—
What cannot be can bring to be,
No zeal what is makes more existent,
And strife but blinds the eyes that see.

What though in blood their souls embruing,
The [great,] the good, and wise they curse,
Still sinning, what they know not doing;
Stand still, forbear, nor make it worse.

By cursing, by denunciation,
By [ ] they cannot stay;
Nor thou by fiery indignation,
Though just, accelerate the day.

While circling, chasing, unescaping,
The waters here these eddies tease,
Unconscious, far its free course shaping,
The great stream silent seeks the seas.

While here, to nooks and shallows drifted,
Leaf, stick, and foam dispute the shore,
The boatman there his sail has lifted
Or plies his unimpeded oar.