| Alfred H. Miles, ed. The Sacred Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907. | | | Verse Musings on Nature, Faith, and Freedom (1889).
II. Freedom.
II. The Devout Skeptic’s Dying Prayer | | By John Owen (1836–1896) |
| | Apropos of the Creed: “I believe in God…. Amen.”
AT last I come, O God of Truth, to Thee, | |
| From human error longing to be free; | |
| Earth’s dubious dogmas I have long since scorned, | |
| And, tired of blindly groping, hope to see. | |
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| Men call me skeptic—this at least is truth, | 5 |
| Their skeptic I—distrustful of their sooth, | |
| Their clamorous certainties, convictions rash, | |
| Unfounded as the baseless dreams of youth. | |
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| I own it, God, my creed I have postponed, | |
| From earth to heaven, with weakness unbemoaned; | 10 |
| I dare not formulate, assert, pronounce, | |
| Until I see Thee, who art Truth enthroned. | |
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| My mental tablet I have hence kept razed, | |
| Whereat, with angry wonderment amazed, | |
| Men with their tablets trebly written on, | 15 |
| And crossed and blotted, cry, “The man is crazed.” | |
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| No! mine shall be the heaven-inscribèd roll, | |
| Truth’s clear and golden impress on my soul; | |
| No palimpsest, with earth-born error blurr’d | |
| And surface scratched; but new and clean and whole. | 20 |
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| Thus then, my doubt to Thee I humbly bring, | |
| A sacrifice to truth—far hence I fling, | |
| With dying breath, beliefs, convictions, creeds, | |
| Mere human baggage—to Thyself I cling. | | | | |
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