 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
IX.
To raise the triumph of victorious Art;To poise a temple in the middle air;
To deck its walls with sculptures gravely fair
Or hues which trace the windings of the heart:
To pierce the maze of Science, and to part
Error from Truth, until thy sedulous care
Had made the moral map of Man as bare
Of doubt or hindrance as the Ocean's chart—
Was this thine aim, high Spirit? knew'st thou not
That, but one soul to lift and purify,
And keep a single day from sinful blot,
Exceeds the strength of frail mortality?
Take back awhile thy corals: and, untaught
To totter, be not emulous to fly.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |