Poems By Mary Elizabeth Coleridge |
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| XLVIII. | XLVIIISELF-QUESTION |
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 | Poems |  |
XLVIII
SELF-QUESTION
Is this wide world not large enough to fill thee,
Nor Nature, nor that deep man's Nature, Art?
Are they too thin, too weak and poor to still thee,
Thou little heart?
Nor Nature, nor that deep man's Nature, Art?
Are they too thin, too weak and poor to still thee,
Thou little heart?
Dust art thou, and to dust again returnest,
A spark of fire within a beating clod.
Should that be infinite for which thou burnest?
Must it be God?
A spark of fire within a beating clod.
Should that be infinite for which thou burnest?
Must it be God?
| Poems | |