Came across this beautiful poem on Intentblog posted by D.K. Matai ….
Conscience is instinct bred in the house,
Feeling and Thinking propagate the sin
By an unnatural breeding in and in…
I say, Turn it out doors,
Into the moors.
I love a life whose plot is simple,
And does not thicken with every pimple,
A soul so sound no sickly conscience binds it,
That makes the universe no worse than ‘t finds it.
I love an earnest soul,
Whose mighty joy and sorrow
Are not drowned in a bowl,
And brought to life to-morrow;
That lives one tragedy,
And not seventy;
A conscience worth keeping;
Laughing not weeping;
……
You can read it in full here
