What fragile fabric binds together faith?
That sublime cloak beyond compare or measure,
That in reflection smothers truth: a wraith,
Whose righteousness wears not but trifling treasure.
And ignorant and blind derives such pleasure
In mortal eyes, obtained at pretty cost,
But banished from the truth, exiled forever,
From knowing unknown things are foremost lost.
And all is lost from what we paid the most,
Each penny's worth, each dime, each gold sov'reign,
When light has passed beyond this mortal host
No thing remains except what we have learned,
    And learning, we have taught to humankind:
    The joy and hope we've brought, we leave behind.

-December 27,2005

David Zvekic

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/font-color-880000-not-all-is-lost-spenserian-son/