334
A MORNING WALK IN JUNE.
He'll still point men to the heights wherefrom he came,
And idly boast of other days than these,
As if his father's or his former fame,
O'erwhelmed by later, blacker infamies,
Could make him other than the guilty thing he is.
And idly boast of other days than these,
As if his father's or his former fame,
O'erwhelmed by later, blacker infamies,
Could make him other than the guilty thing he is.
Poor creeping thing! perhaps, if thou couldst speak,
Thou wouldst tell many a tale of piteous woe;
Perchance, in thy wild fancies, vainly seek
For other than thou seemest, mean and low,
Scarce animate with life;—say, is it so?
And canst thou be contented thus to go,
Crawling beneath the feet of one like me,
Who, made of clay, doth still aspire to know
The secrets of the -skies, and fain would be
Admitted to the realms where shines the galaxy?
Thou wouldst tell many a tale of piteous woe;
Perchance, in thy wild fancies, vainly seek
For other than thou seemest, mean and low,
Scarce animate with life;—say, is it so?
And canst thou be contented thus to go,
Crawling beneath the feet of one like me,
Who, made of clay, doth still aspire to know
The secrets of the -skies, and fain would be
Admitted to the realms where shines the galaxy?
But if thou art contented, I'll not call
Thee abject, nor insult thy lowly state;
Thou dost not mount the car of fame, to fall
Therefrom, despised, degraded, desolate,
The pride, the scorn, the mockery of fate,
Like thy reviler, man; who, did he see
A God above, would strive to be His mate.
Would match himself even with the Deity,
With that Power uncreate, Who made both him and thee!
Thee abject, nor insult thy lowly state;
Thou dost not mount the car of fame, to fall
Therefrom, despised, degraded, desolate,
The pride, the scorn, the mockery of fate,
Like thy reviler, man; who, did he see
A God above, would strive to be His mate.
Would match himself even with the Deity,
With that Power uncreate, Who made both him and thee!
