 | Stones from The Quarry |  |
LOOKING TOO FAR AHEAD.
Like him who on the stretch'd rope's dizzy height,Stunned by the thunders of Niagara,
Death instant, poised like vulture, in the air,
As in the waters open-jawed, to affright,
Paced forth,—is he who by faith, not by sight,
Doth on Imagination's stretch'd line dare,
Time's dread stream thundering on below, to fare
Towárds the Future's thither shore, by light
From wíthin only! On his dizzy course
Midway he pauses—back he may not go,
Yet fails to reach the thither shore his force:
The hither faintly, that more dim doth show!
The dark stream's end he knows not, nor its source:
Forefeel true Poet must, though not foreknow.
| Stones from The Quarry | |