 | The Poems of Sir William Watson |  |
SCIENCE AND NATURE
We babble of our ‘conquest of the air’;
Of Nature's secrets one by one laid bare.
Her secrets! They are evermore withheld:
'Tis only in her porches we have dwelled.
Could we once lift her veil as we desire,
We were burnt up as chaff before her fire.
Of Nature's secrets one by one laid bare.
Her secrets! They are evermore withheld:
'Tis only in her porches we have dwelled.
Could we once lift her veil as we desire,
We were burnt up as chaff before her fire.
O mighty is Knowledge, yet to this we are blind—
Art can create, Science can only find.
We do but nibble at Truth: our vaunted lore
Is the half-scornful alms flung from her door.
Our lips her weak and watered wine have known:
The unthinned vintage is for gods alone.
Art can create, Science can only find.
We do but nibble at Truth: our vaunted lore
Is the half-scornful alms flung from her door.
Our lips her weak and watered wine have known:
The unthinned vintage is for gods alone.
| The Poems of Sir William Watson | |