V.
‘In Te est totum quod volo et desidero.’
Once oft I strain'd mine eyes in hope to see
The form by human fancy drawn in air
Of a first Good, first Perfect and first Fair;
For infinitely great, me-seem'd, must be
The Power to which my soul could bend her knee—
To which should rise the passion of her prayer.
But now such fruitless quest do I forbear,
Finding all fulness in Humanity.
Of the great thoughts that quicken and sustain
None was inspired by supernatural breath;
Each sprang unprompted in a human brain.
And, search the depths below, the heights above,
Nought nobler wilt thou find than human love—
Love, that is subject to, yet conquers, Death.
