Truth's Guiding Star

In the dim twilight of our troubled life.Where none may see with vision wholly dear,And most must tread a path with pitfalls rife,Where scarce a star their gloomy path doth cheer;And those who loudliest do themselves proclaimAs sole custodians of the keys of truth,Most oft are hollow windbags skilled to framePoor sophistries or specious falsehoods smooth,—I find no better guidance than is foundIn the assurance that whate'er may chanceA soul resolved truth's heights and depths to soundFearless, nor viewing consequence askance,Is armed against sick thoughts and narrow creeds,And all the ills that morbid fancy breeds.