Rosemary and Pansies/To a Devotee
TO A DEVOTEE
Rise from your knees, sick-thoughted sufferer! Prayer doth but serve to emasculate the soul, To morbid thoughts holding it prisoner, And sinking it in ever-deeper dole. Mistrust of self is cowardice at best, Prayer unavailing adds but to your pain: 'Tis active work, not passive prayer, makes blest, Your sin's the figment of a brooding brain. Stand up and be no more a suppliant slave: Is God a Genghiz Khan or Tamerlane? All nature thunders forth one precept brave— Courage alone the prize of life shall gain. Weakness above all else the fates despise, The fearless-hearted only are the wise.