If it were in my dead Past's power
To let my Present bask
In some lost pleasure for an hour,
This is the boon I'd ask:
Re-pedestal from out the dust
Where long ago 'twas hurled,
My beautiful incautious trust
In this unworthy world.
The symbol of my own soul's truth---
I saw it go with tears---
The sweet unwisdom of my youth---
That vanished with the years.
Since knowledge brings us only grief,
I would return again
To happy ignorance and belief
In motives and in men.
For worldly wisdom learned in pain
Is in itself a cross,
Significant mayhap of gain,
Yet sign of saddest loss.
Poetical works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox. by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Edinburgh : W. P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell, 1917.
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