William Wilfred Campbell - Foundations

We are what nature made us; soon or late, <br />Life's art that fadeth passeth slow away, <br />With iron eatings of our sordid day, <br />Leaving behind those influences, innate, <br />Immutable, divine. As round some great, <br />Rude, craggy isle, the loud surf's ravening fray <br />Shatters all life in spume of thundered spray, <br />Leaving huge cliffs, scarred, grim, in naked state. <br /> <br />So life and all its idols hath its hour, <br />Its fleet, ephemeral dream, its passing show, <br />Its pomp of fevered hopes that come and go: <br />Then stripped of vanity and folly's power, <br />Like some wide water bared to moon and star, <br />We know ourselves in truth for what we are.<br /><br />William Wilfred Campbell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/foundations-2/