If faithful souls be alike glorified <br />As angels, then my fathers soul doth see, <br />And adds this even to full felicity, <br />That valiantly I hells wide mouth o'erstride: <br />But if our minds to these souls be descried <br />By circumstances, and by signs that be <br />Apparent in us, not immediately, <br />How shall my mind's white truth by them be tried? <br />They see idolatrous lovers weep and mourn, <br />And vile blasphemous conjurers to call <br />On Jesus name, and Pharisaical <br />Dissemblers feigne devotion. Then turn, <br />O pensive soul, to God, for he knows best <br />Thy true grief, for he put it in my breast.<br /><br />John Donne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/holy-sonnet-viii-if-faithful-souls-be-alike-glor/
