Via Vita Veritas

            WE watch the bud in spring, inclining ear
            To hear the young leaf lisping in the sheath;
            We count the shimmering moments, underneath
            The shadow of the summer’s fluttering gear;
            Our labour care, lest blight or blast should sear
            Or shake our fragrant, petal-precious wreath;
            Till the hour come in which we would bequeath
            The leaf that hangs the last, of all most dear.

            O Life, when there is nought betwixt Thy cross
            And client, save Thy blood and deathly sweat,
            Then sink the good, the ills; the gain, the loss;
            Occasion or excuse to joy or grieve;
            Fall all the leaves of life without regret;
            O Way, O Truth, it is enough to live.

                                                              JOHN GRAY