 | The Harp of Erin |  |
Why should the shrinking pinion fear
to rise?
Why dread the mental journey of the skies?
Why still to native earth ignobly cling,
And tune to transient themes the vocal string?
What though dark Error dims the searching gaze,
Though Wisdom wanders in the lucid maze;
Though trembling Doubt retard the lofty flight,
And strong Belief cries loudly, All is right;
Yet let us follow the mysterious clue,
While smiling Hope, and dauntless Faith pursue;
This brave excursion, this sublime desire,
Marks some faint impulse of celestial fire,
Some ling'ring lustre of angelic sense,
To former, future bliss some fond pretence:
Nor shun the path where saints and sages trod,
Lo! Nature urges on to know our God!
Each finer spring, each secret link to trace,
Each streaming glory of his effluent grace,
Each depth to dive, each pointless height to scan,
And own his mercy justified to Man!
Why dread the mental journey of the skies?
Why still to native earth ignobly cling,
And tune to transient themes the vocal string?
What though dark Error dims the searching gaze,
Though Wisdom wanders in the lucid maze;
Though trembling Doubt retard the lofty flight,
And strong Belief cries loudly, All is right;
Yet let us follow the mysterious clue,
While smiling Hope, and dauntless Faith pursue;
This brave excursion, this sublime desire,
Marks some faint impulse of celestial fire,
Some ling'ring lustre of angelic sense,
To former, future bliss some fond pretence:
Nor shun the path where saints and sages trod,
Lo! Nature urges on to know our God!
Each finer spring, each secret link to trace,
Each streaming glory of his effluent grace,
Each depth to dive, each pointless height to scan,
And own his mercy justified to Man!
| The Harp of Erin | |