Classic Poem

Tired of the narrow limits her assigned,
Truth fled the earth; and men were fain to grope
In utter darkness. Blindly they blundered,
And were long distraught, till on the horizon rose
A luminosity, and in its midst
A form. They cried, “‘Tis Truth! fair Truth returned!’
And though the light seemed dim, the form but faint
To that of other days, they worshipped it,
And all things went along much as at first.
Until, born none knew whence, a doubt arose;
Grew strong; and spake; and pondering, men began
To quest their goddess' claim. Then, too, was set
A secret watch, a covert test for proof;
And one fine day there rose a clamour, such
As cheated mobs will make, when cunning puts
A veto on their claim.
For this mob found that, in her stolen guise
Of softer beams, they had adored a cheat;
A make-believe; a lie.
Immense their rage! One aim inspired them all—
To punish. But while they swayed and tossed
In wrathful argument on just desert,
Fair Truth indeed appeared, clad in her robes
Of glorious majesty. “Desist, my friends,”
She cried; “the executioner condign
Of Insincerity, and your avenger,
Is Time, my faithful henchman.”