Charles Hamilton Sorley (Чарльз Сорли)
What You Will
O come and see, it's such a sight, So many boys all doing right: To see them underneath the yoke, Blindfolded by the elder folk, Move at a most impressive rate Along the way that is called straight. O, it is comforting to know They're in the way they ought to go. But don't you think it's far more gay To see them slowly leave the way And limp and loose themselves and fall? O, that's the nicest thing of all. 1 love to see this sight, for then I know they are becoming men, And they are tiring of the shrine Where things are really not divine. I do not know if it seems brave The youthful spirit to enslave, And hedge about, lest it should grow. I don't know if it's better so In the long end. I only know That when I have a son of mine, He shan't be made to droop and pine, Bound down and forced by rule and rod To serve a God who is no God. But I'll put custom on the shelf And make him find his God himself. Perhaps he'll find him in a tree, Some hollow trunk, where you can see. Perhaps the daisies in the sod Will open out and show him God. Or will he meet him in the roar Of breakers as they beat the shore? Or in the spiky stars that shine? Or in the rain (where I found mine)? Or in the city's giant moan? —A God who will be all his own, To whom he can address a prayer And love him, for he is so fair, And see with eyes that are not dim And build a temple meet for him.
30 June 1913
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