A Poem By John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892)

We search the world for truth. We cull

The good, the true, the beautiful,

From graven stone and written scroll,

And all old flower fields of the soul;

And, weary seekers of the best,

We come back laden from our quest,

To find that all the sages said

Is in the Book our mothers read.



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