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The Man of Science
A man, whom Science had made wise,
Above the multitude around;
Till he could tread the starry skies,
As other mortals tread the ground;
Conceived that he could grasp the thought,
How Nature into being sprang;
When worlds were called from empty naught,
And morning's stars together sang!
That he the mystery could tell,
How man himself at first began;
And trace from microscopic cell,
Through lower forms, the noblest, Man!
At last he rose to such a height,
That even human feeling fled;
And he could look without affright,
On what would fill the world with dread;—
In abstract musing, he could see
The earth return to naught again;
And man and Nature cease to be,
Yet heave no sigh, and feel no pain!
Above the multitude around;
Till he could tread the starry skies,
As other mortals tread the ground;
Conceived that he could grasp the thought,
How Nature into being sprang;
When worlds were called from empty naught,
And morning's stars together sang!
That he the mystery could tell,
How man himself at first began;
251
Through lower forms, the noblest, Man!
At last he rose to such a height,
That even human feeling fled;
And he could look without affright,
On what would fill the world with dread;—
In abstract musing, he could see
The earth return to naught again;
And man and Nature cease to be,
Yet heave no sigh, and feel no pain!
But once, in midnight's solemn hour,
His natural feelings all awoke;
And gifted with diviner power,
Thus to his trembling spirit spoke.
“Where wast thou, when the world was made?”
“Where wilt thou be, when it shall end?”
He heard, and he was sore afraid,
Nor would his voice an answer lend.
Unwonted thoughts and feelings thronged
His awe-struck soul, and it possessed;
For his own nature he had wronged,
And all his nobler wants suppressed.
That which before unreal seemed,
And but a distant, shadowy thought,
When he, in abstruse studies dreamed;
Was to his soul all real brought.
He sympathized with Nature's fate,
Nor saw unfeeling her decay;
Beheld far back her ancient date,
And joyed to see her earliest day.
Nor felt for worlds' vast change alone,
But for the little short-lived flower;
Whose beauteous morn is scarcely known,
Before it sees its evening hour.
And though as earnest still to scan
The wonders of creation o'er;
He was a wiser, better man,
And mingled Love with Science' lore.
His natural feelings all awoke;
And gifted with diviner power,
Thus to his trembling spirit spoke.
“Where wast thou, when the world was made?”
“Where wilt thou be, when it shall end?”
He heard, and he was sore afraid,
Nor would his voice an answer lend.
Unwonted thoughts and feelings thronged
His awe-struck soul, and it possessed;
For his own nature he had wronged,
And all his nobler wants suppressed.
That which before unreal seemed,
And but a distant, shadowy thought,
When he, in abstruse studies dreamed;
Was to his soul all real brought.
He sympathized with Nature's fate,
Nor saw unfeeling her decay;
Beheld far back her ancient date,
And joyed to see her earliest day.
Nor felt for worlds' vast change alone,
But for the little short-lived flower;
Whose beauteous morn is scarcely known,
Before it sees its evening hour.
And though as earnest still to scan
The wonders of creation o'er;
He was a wiser, better man,
And mingled Love with Science' lore.
Poem No. 12; c. 21 October 1848
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