Ethel Ashton writes of the value of the things not yet in view:
Beyond the forms and the faces I see ineffable things,
Above the cry of the children I hear the beating of wings;
Gracing the graves of the weary are blossoms that never were blown,
And over the whole of knowledge stands all that shall yet be known.
The city is not my prison--the world can not stay me there;
For whole wide earth and its beauty there’s beauty beyond compare.
The wealth of the wind-blown music, the gold of the sun are mine.
In light of the light men see not--in sight of the things divine.
For truer than all that is written is all that has not been told.
The yet unlived and unliving are truer than all the old.
The fairest is still the furthest; the life that has yet to be
Holds ever the past and present--itself the soul of the three.
--_The Outlook_ (London).
(1182)
=Future Uncertain=--See TO-MORROW, UNCERTAINTY OF.