Once on a time, the ancient legends tell, Truth, rising from the bottom of her well, Looked on the world, but, hearing how it lied, Returned to her seclusion horrified.

There she abode, so conscious of her worth, Not even Pilate’s Question called her forth, Nor Galileo, kneeling to deny The Laws that hold our Planet neath the sky.

Meantime, her kindlier sister, whom men call Fiction, did all her work and more than all, With so much zeal, devotion, tact, and care, That no one noticed Truth was other where.

By Rudyard kipling


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