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Agnostic

Written by: Robert William Service | Biography
 | Quotes (2) |
 The chapel looms against the sky,
 Above the vine-clad shelves,
And as the peasants pass it by
 They cross themselves.
But I alone, I grieve to state,
 Lack sentiment divine:
A citified sophisticate,
 I make no sign.

Their gesture may a habit be,
 Mechanic in a sense,
Yet somehow it awakes in me
 Strange reverence.
And though from ignorance it stem,
 Somehow I deeply grieve,
And wish down in my heart like them
 I could believe.

Suppose a cottage I should buy,
 And little patch of vine,
With pure and humble spirit I
 Might make the Sign.
Aye, though I godless way I go,
 And sceptic in my trend,
A faith in something I don't know
 Might save me in the end.



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