Stones from The Quarry | ||
REASON.
Not with the pride which apes humility,But with magnanimous submission, bow
Thy head to Reason, that she on thy brow
May set her seal, and single make thine eye,
To see (not darkly as thro' a glass we spy
The sun) how she supreme in all is, how
She shines; nor other than her weights allow
In her fine scales, the poise to falsify.
Upon her true high-altar sacrifice
Thy heart's eidola, tho' they with the grace
Of Circe plead; tho' anguish be the price
Like Jephthah's, when he saw his daughter's face!
These, with the Beautiful which never dies,
The True which ne'er deceives, she will replace!
Stones from The Quarry | ||