Strong wills there are that dare the worst, and break;
Strong minds that in a mortal season ponder
Immortal wisdom: willing feet that wander
Forbidden ways; pure spirits that forsake
The city's custom, and beside the lake
Of loneliness give heed; and those who squander
Their legacy of faith, that here, not yonder,
Life's fruit, though green, fall from the bough they shake.
Destiny on her pediment still smiles.
She knows the doors they knock at, and the key
Lies in her hands. She triumphs in withholding
Her secret, though in pity she beguiles
Their senses with a dream of earth and sea
That Truth be unsuspected, though enfolding.