 | Fand and Other Poems |  |
59
SCIENCE AND PREDICTION.
Two angels are there who feed the being of man,
And give him of their sustenance turn by turn,
One from an iron, one from a golden urn:
Their growth is equal-paced, but by a span
The first is older, and with mien more stern
Doth proffer of a bitter-flavoured food;
The other, with bright smile and eyes that burn,
A sparkling draught, whereby the joyous mood
Is, in the labour-saddened heart renewed.
And give him of their sustenance turn by turn,
One from an iron, one from a golden urn:
Their growth is equal-paced, but by a span
The first is older, and with mien more stern
Doth proffer of a bitter-flavoured food;
The other, with bright smile and eyes that burn,
A sparkling draught, whereby the joyous mood
Is, in the labour-saddened heart renewed.
So doth man's soul grow strong new toil to bear;
So hath his eye clear vision to foresee;
Then stint not of thine iron-flavoured fare
To feed that growth, O knowledge; nor do thou spare,
That equal to the might the light may be,
Thy nectar-golden draughts, O Prophecy.
So hath his eye clear vision to foresee;
Then stint not of thine iron-flavoured fare
To feed that growth, O knowledge; nor do thou spare,
That equal to the might the light may be,
Thy nectar-golden draughts, O Prophecy.
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