This poem has been on my mind the last few weeks. I read it in a literature class several years back, and thought it was beautiful.
The Book Our Mothers Read | John Greenleaf Whittier
We search the world for truth; we cull
The good, the pure, the beautiful,
From graven stone and written scroll.
And all old flower-fields of the soul;
And, weary seekers of the best,
We come back laden from the quest,
To find that all the sages said
Is in the Book our mothers read.
