"Truth," said a traveller, <br />"Is a rock, a mighty fortress; <br />Often have I been to it, <br />Even to its highest tower, <br />From whence the world looks black." <br /> <br />"Truth," said a traveller, <br />"Is a breath, a wind, <br />A shadow, a phantom; <br />Long have I pursued it, <br />But never have I touched <br />The hem of its garment." <br />And I believed the second traveller; <br />For truth was to me <br />A breath, a wind, <br />A shadow, a phantom, <br />And never had I touched <br />The hem of its garment.<br /><br />Stephen Crane<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/truth-4/
