DOUBT

by: Helen Hunt Jackson (1830-1885)

      HEY bade me cast the thing away,
      They pointed to my hands all bleeding,
      They listened not to all my pleading;
      The thing I meant I could not say;
      I knew that I should rue the day
      If once I cast that thing away.
       
      I grasped it firm, and bore the pain;
      The thorny husks I stripped and scattered;
      If I could reach its heart, what mattered
      If other men saw not my gain,
      Or even if I should be slain?
      I knew the risks; I chose the pain.
       
      O, had I cast that thing away,
      I had not found what most I cherish,
      A faith without which I should perish,--
      The faith which, like a kernel, lay
      Hid in the husks which on that day
      My instinct would not throw away!

"Doubt" is reprinted from Poems. Helen Jackson. Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1892.

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