The Statues in the Block and Other Poems/Remorse
REMORSE.
I REMEMBER when I was a boy
That a grown girl wanted to kiss me;
And I struggled, was angry, and shy,
And ran off when she tried to caress me.
And I've thought of that day through the years;
(What a moral, my friend, lies in this!)
Under every sweet leaf that appears
Lurks a pain for the loss of that kiss.
The Infinite always is silent;
It is only the Finite speaks.
Our words are the idle wave-caps
On the deep that never breaks.
We may question with wand of science,
Explain, decide, and discuss;
But only in meditation
The Mystery speaks to us.