"Truth, " said a traveller,
"Is a rock, a mighty fortress;
Often have I been to it,
Even to its highest tower,
From whence the world looks black." "Truth, " said a traveller,
"Is a breath, a wind,
A shadow, a phantom;
Long have I pursued it,
But never have I touched
The hem of its garment." And I believed the second traveller;
For Truth was to me
A breath, a wind,
A shadow, a phantom,
And never had I touched
The hem of its garment.