The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | ||
XVII. TO A SCEPTIC.
How oft that haughty and far-flashing eye,Have I not seen thee to the wide heavens raise,
Or on the dark earth root thy tyrannous gaze
As on a scroll with piercing scrutiny!
Great scorn it seemed and great indignity
That aught should mock thy search:—and yet that haze
Which veils the loftiest, deepest things, obeys,
Be sure, the cloud-compelling Power on high.
Our life is finite—let the mind be so;
And therefore bound the Spirit's appetites:
Some things we cannot, some we should not know;
Wisdom there is that weakens, lore that blights—
He too that walks among the eternal lights
Casts, as He moves, His shadow oft below!
The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | ||