 | Ranolf and Amohia |  |
XIII.
“'Tis my faith—should this Soul-Life, my lad, in the Intellect's hotter attacksMelt away like a counterfeit flower Superstition has modelled in wax,
And the Heart could not rear the live blossom,—yet Nature and Fate would be heard—
Would ‘reduce’ its denial at last to a crushing, terrific ‘absurd;’
Let Mankind down a withering process of practical Logic be hurled;
Prove by vivid Experience how,—mortal-soulled—a mere animal World
To a Bedlam and Chaos must come—universal putridity—rot!
So be forced to assume Immortality—hold it Humanity's lot—
Whether ‘Logic’ the truth of the Fact could directly demonstrate or not!
| Ranolf and Amohia | |