Oscar Wilde

The True Knowledge

Thou knowest all; I seek in vain
    What lands to till or sow with seed -
    The land is black with briar and weed,
Nor cares for falling tears or rain.

Thou knowest all; I sit and wait
    With blinded eyes and hands that fail,
    Till the last lifting of the veil
And the first opening of the gate.

Thou knowest all; I cannot see.
    I trust I shall not live in vain,
    I know that we shall meet again
In some divine eternity.