On Truth

How may I know truth? Oh my beloved,
I would answer thee. Truth is companionable,
She is never a lady who sighs and languishes-
Never a knight vainglorious. Truth is
A simple maid whose tongue is unalloyed.
He who bends his ear confidently
And listeneth with an ear of self,
Hears not the voice of truth.
Truth is universal! She sayeth not yea
Unto one, and nay unto another.
If thou hast said yea, and thy brother-nay,
Then one of ye hath lost truth!
Truth is not a lendful wine.
It is as a perfect golden ball, and may not fit
A casket, however cunningly contrived,
Be it not lendful to her curve.
Truth is at the pit of every man's heart,
And ne'er breathed a man, save that he argued
His ain wisdom 'gainst her.
Truth is a just garment, and no man
May hide his nakedness behind it.
The cloth of truth is nay bigger than
A man's palm, yet any man
May hide his wisdom aneath it.