The Convert

After one moment when I bowed my head
And the whole world turned over and came upright,
And I came out where the old road shone white,
I walked the ways and heard what all men said,
Forests of tongues, like autumn leaves unshed,
Being not unlovable but strange and light;
Old riddles and new creeds, not in despite
But softly, as men smile about the dead.

The sages have a hundred maps to give
That trace their crawling cosmos like a tree,
They rattle reason out through many a sieve
That stores the sand and lets the gold go free:
And all these things are less than dust to me
Because my name is Lazarus and I live.

— (1922).

Published in: on March 26, 2008 at 5:58 pm  Comments (2)  

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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. […] The Convert (a poem by G.K. Chesterton) […]

  2. […] unable to do it. Blame me, perhaps, but perhaps not. As I have been writing these notes, some lines from Chesterton have been running through my mind: And all these things are less than dust to me For my name is […]


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