If faithfull soules be alike glorifi'd <br />As Angels, then my fathers soul doth see, <br />And adds this even to full felecitie, <br />That valiantly I hels wide mouth o'stride: <br />But if our mindes to these soules be descry'd <br />By circumstances, and by signes that be <br />Apparent in us, not immediately, <br />How shall my mindes white truth by them be try'd? <br />They see idolatrous lovers weepe and mourne, <br />And vile blasphemous Conjurers to call <br />On Jesus name, and Pharisaicall <br />Dissemblers feigne devotion. Then turne <br />O pensive soule, to God, for he knows best <br />Thy true griefe, for he put it in my breast.<br /><br />John Donne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/holy-sonnet-viii-if-faithfull-soules/
