 | Elegies and memorials |  |
THE MYSTERY OF MYSTERIES.
I
Of all the planets yearning—as they runIn magic round still ending, still begun—
To break the spell that holds them from the sun,
Does any guard the secret of all things?
Does some Star Emperor, other than the one
To which the lark sweet adoration sings,
Draw wiser worlds than ours around his throne?
Or must our hope still further stretch its wings
On to that Point of Mystery, unknown
Magnet of all the suns whose fiery cars
Whirl myriads after them of unimagined stars?
II
Or seek the Cause of Causes far behind,The grave-clothes of a dateless past unwind,
28
Which knew not what we know? Say, can we reach,
By footprints faint as these, the Master-mind?
What though primeval atoms dumbly teach
The law of change, which, ere life yet began,
Gave form to formless matter,—can they preach
Of aught that's older than themselves to Man?
Reveal a Presence greater than we see,
Greater than all we are and all we hope to be?
III
Perchance, perchance at last, his toils and tears,The long death-grapple of his hopes and fears,
And wisdom martyred all the countless years,—
Through deepening soul and heart's enlarged embrace,
And Duty owned sole star of worshippers,—
Shall this day's type of half-formed man efface,
(What time the wrangling Oracles are dumb)
To set the crown of Godhead on our race,
And work the nobler miracles to come.
In vain for ages long we seek a sign
Of any God on earth, till Man becomes divine.
| Elegies and memorials | |