If the red slayer think he slays, <br />Or if the slain think he is slain, <br />They know not well the subtle ways <br />I keep, and pass, and turn again. <br /> <br />Far or forgot to me is near; <br />Shadow and sunlight are the same; <br />The vanished gods to me appear; <br />And one to me are shame and fame. <br /> <br />They reckon ill who leave me out; <br />When me they fly, I am the wings; <br />I am the doubter and the doubt, <br />And I the hymn the Brahmin sings. <br /> <br />The strong gods pine for my abode, <br />And pine in vain the sacred Seven; <br />But thou, meek lover of the good! <br />Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.<br /><br />Ralph Waldo Emerson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/brahma-2/
