The True Knowledge

　　Thou knowest all； I seek in vain

　　What lands to till or sow with seed -

　　The land is black with briar and weed，

　　Nor cares for falling tears or rain.

　　Thou knowest all； I sit and wait

　　With blinded eyes and hands that fail，

　　Till the last lifting of the veil

　　And the first opening of the gate.

　　Thou knowest all； I cannot see.

　　I trust I shall not live in vain，

　　I know that we shall meet again

　　In some divine eternity.