True Wisdom (Sonnet)

Accuse not learning when her votaries quench
     The simple heart, with all its holy aims, 
     In her deep fountain, or compel its flames 
To fire the fierce alembics where they wrench 
The life from nature till their own lives blench 
     In their sharp solvents. A true wisdom blames
     The sordid miser, not the gold he claims, 
And Love sits, ermined, on her judgment bench.
So will she keep the morning dew of life
     On the fresh leaves, through noon to dewy eve;
The soul unshriveled, the heart unscarred by strife;
     Taught by more knowledge more truly to believe;
And grasping all the strands of natural lore
Shall twine a warp of faith to reach the Golden Shore.