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Title: Progress [Let there be many windows to your soul]
Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox [ More Titles by Wilcox]
Let there be many windows to your soul, That all the glory of the universe May beautify it. Not the narrow pane Of one poor creed can catch the radiant rays That shine from countless sources. Tear away The blinds of superstition; let the light Pour through fair windows broad as Truth itself And high as God. Why should the spirit peer Through some priest-curtained orifice, and grope Along dim corridors of doubt, when all The splendor from unfathomed seas of space Might bathe it with the golden waves of Love? Sweep up the debris of decaying faiths; Sweep down the cobwebs of worn-out beliefs, And throw your soul wide open to the light Of Reason and of Knowledge. Tune your ear To all the wordless music of the stars And to the voice of Nature, and your heart Shall turn to truth and goodness as the plant Turns to the sun. A thousand unseen hands Reach down to help you to their peace-crowned heights. And all the forces of the firmament Shall fortify your strength. Be not afraid To thrust aside half-truths and grasp the whole.
[The end] Ella Wheeler Wilcox's poem: Progress ________________________________________________
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