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XLIV.

Blind leaders of the blind, by blindness led,
Men say to God, and his Eternal Year,
“Stop! it is finish'd! let your rushing skies
Rein in their fiery steeds, and be at rest.”
Yet do our altars stand, though built of sod!
Then, scorn not Error. Dateless is the faction
That, if they could, would bridle Mind's career,
And eagerly erase the words of light
O'er Truth's wide portals written to be read:
“All things that are, or were, are thought in action,
The testing of the Thinker's theories;
And they who limit knowledge, do their best
To stop, or hinder, Progress Infinite,
The Wisdom and the Happiness of God!”