From the Ruins

From the Ruins

One is sprouting from Augustine’s earth
A calm precision of thought is growing;
Truth is panging for its rebirth
Orthodox saints are sowing;

Oh how I feel this,
And oh how I feel that
Gives way to enthusiasm
That shines brightly black;

From the ancient stones of the West
Truth is beckoning to be heard;
Fancies and opinions laid to rest
By Spirit He calls the herd;

There is a balance to be played out
Between heart and mind of the devout;
These two must not always bout,
But must live together to be devout.