 | Fantasy and Passion |  |
89
DEGREE.
What if the great earth where our life
Appears so vast and fierce a strife,
Appears so vast and fierce a strife,
Where mighty kingdoms rise and sink,
Where warriors fight, reformers think,
Where warriors fight, reformers think,
Where statesmen plot, where poets rave,
Where science makes the lightning slave,
Where science makes the lightning slave,
Nay, what if all that meets our sight
In starry calms of utmost night,
In starry calms of utmost night,
All pale complexities we trace
In the awful altitudes of space,
In the awful altitudes of space,
All orbs among those baffling heights,
The suns of myriad satellites,—
The suns of myriad satellites,—
What if all these and all they hold
Of lands and peoples manifold,
Of lands and peoples manifold,
Were, to the eyes of one afar,—
One mortal as we mortals are,—
One mortal as we mortals are,—
Like those mere giddy motes that dance
Within a sunbeam's lucid lance?
Within a sunbeam's lucid lance?
While he, in strange stupendous ways,
Lived on through monstrous nights and days,
Lived on through monstrous nights and days,
Able, if chance might so allot,
To breathe us in and know it not!
To breathe us in and know it not!
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