University of Virginia Library

For every man the tangled skein of life
Betrays one leading thread, one Gordian knot
Secures that clue; but howsoe'er we strive,
Twine and untwine the labyrinthine mesh,
Its grand Tantalian maze and mystery,
Line upon line, to more fantastic shape
Is twisted. Baffled ingenuity
Returns upon itself, a vain expense;
For still the leading thread that Fate assign'd
At each one's birth remains within his hands,
Unused: the knot which ties it is himself. . . .
Say, is there any man, however far
He ventures down into his nature's depths,
Has yet unravell'd his own mystery?

Mournful it is amidst the night to sit
And spell the doubtful message of the stars;
To place what vague construction best appeals
On half-caught voices speaking in the wind;
Mournful to wait until a wiser hand
Unties the knot, or lets the mesh fall down.
Stars, teach us patience; lift upon the wind
Your voices, ministers unseen; and thou,
Take heart, O Soul! Emancipated, wing'd,
Thou shalt come forth and raise into the light
The guiding line which somehow led thee on
Where mazes end, where oracles declare
Their purport, where the light speaks clear and loud.
To-day perchance, to-morrow is not long,
Yet at an age's end, nigh is the time!

But order now the temple of the mind,
That we be ready when the hour arrives;
And let no crookedness or twist within
Prevent the correspondence of the soul
With the best order that the soul has dream'd.
O be we inly rectified and right,
And stand we clear before the mystery,
And open we in all to gain our sun;
But if the light should tarry, be we still
Patient and purged, and not a day too late!
The cords may want some pulling at the end
To straighten them; the parting veil may need
Some happy violence to cast it quite
Aside for ever; the high light beyond
Ask something from the boldness of the eye
Which meets it first. And if indeed there be
God's wisdom latent in life's parables,
Then all the unsolved problem of ourselves,
Subtended by the sapience of God,
Is sacred through the presence of the King;
There dwells His secret, there His rumours stir,
And there be sure the royal voice shall first
Proclaim the great arcanum over which
We dream and brood. O long and dolorous way,
Thine end is all within! O life-long search,
Thy crown is there! O light of all desired,
There art thou shrouded, there wilt manifest!
O God, our end, if we can meet with Thee
In any place apart from all the world,
It is there only, and abiding there,
Waiting for Thee, our mystic comfort comes—
That none shall lose Thee who makes search within,
If, O our God, Thou art!

And hark, the soul
Speaks in the depths of man and testifies!
Prophets may fail us and the Christs may die,
And many Calvaries and Golgothas
Be waiting still the saviours of the race;
But never has the sibyl soul adjured
Made any answer from her oracle,
Save—God is with me, and within me God!