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.