Overview

This is the first page of the poem. It speaks of Fox's personal quest, then his teaching and, finally, the continuity of his experience of the Light with Quakers of the 21st century, especially unprogrammed Friends. The last page is a Prophecy of our beloved society. Fox choked upon the culture of his town, The clink of cups, crude jesting bought with oaths, The measured bow to wealth and cleric rank. Their laughter rang like tin upon his ear, Too quick to bless, too shallow to be true. George Fox could feel a split between their words And lives they lived by candlelight and coin. What passed for faith was sewn with habit's thread, A coat oft worn, but from conformity. He watched the priest rehearse inherited truth And sensed no fire beneath the borrowed sound. The alehouse taught him less than silence could; The market told him prices, not the worth. So inwardly compelled, he turned aside From games of youth, and marriage, talk, and trade. He walked the lanes where hedges keep their peace And could not grasp the world's insanity. If God were near, then why these empty rites? If truth were whole, why parcel it by class? He sought the counsel of the learned men, Who answered him with texts and settled rules. Their pages shone, but failed to warm his heart. From sect to sect he wandered, thin with doubt, A pilgrim starved on other people's bread. Each voice declared the path already known, Yet none could speak the word his soul required. At last he stood alone with his own need, Unshod of comfort, stripped of borrowed names, And felt the search itself become his guide.

Full Product Details

9798246159514

Table of Contents

Reviews

Author Information

Tab Content 6

Countries Available