124
Orion.
[Book III.
Is but a vital engine that conveys
Blood, to no purpose, up and down thy frame;
Whose forehead is a large stone sepulchre
Of knowledge; and whose life but turns to waste
My measured hours, and earth's material!"
Blood, to no purpose, up and down thy frame;
Whose forehead is a large stone sepulchre
Of knowledge; and whose life but turns to waste
My measured hours, and earth's material!"
Whereto the Great Unmoved no answer made,
And Time continued, sterner than before.
"Thy sire, Tithonos, living nine score years,
Knew many things; but when thou wert begot,
Olympos chimed with crystal laughter bright,
Since, for thy mother, his dim vision chose
A fallen statue which he deemed a nymph,
White as a flint amid a field of corn.
I warn thee by that memory!—thou mistakest
A prostrate stone for the fair truth of life."
And Time continued, sterner than before.
"Thy sire, Tithonos, living nine score years,
Knew many things; but when thou wert begot,
Olympos chimed with crystal laughter bright,
Since, for thy mother, his dim vision chose
A fallen statue which he deemed a nymph,
White as a flint amid a field of corn.
I warn thee by that memory!—thou mistakest
A prostrate stone for the fair truth of life."
Whereto the Great Unmoved no answer made,
And Time continued, sterner than before.
"O, not-to-be-approved! thou Apathy,
Who gazest downward on that empty shell,—
Is it for thee who bear'st the common lot
Of man, and art his brother in the fields,
From birth to funeral pyre; is it for thee,
And Time continued, sterner than before.
"O, not-to-be-approved! thou Apathy,
Who gazest downward on that empty shell,—
Is it for thee who bear'st the common lot
Of man, and art his brother in the fields,
From birth to funeral pyre; is it for thee,
