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Perfection is from effort,—nights of study
Of nature's solemn lore; not idle dreams,
But reveries that reach the starry heavens,
And read their shining wonders with delight,
And a mysterious awe; and days of toil
Through the linked paths of science, (intricate
As labyrinthine wonders, yet pure truth
Running through all their mazes,) still to chase
With an unwearied ardour; and calm eves
Of deep and blissful prayer to consecrate,
And rise from earth,—its hopes, and fears, and cares
Cast like an earthly garment, till the soul
Stands disencumbered at the throne of God,
Filled with all blest aspirings; this is not
Like a child's careless game; it is a task
For an immortal spirit.—Ancient heroes
Achieved no greater victory; though they died
In arms, to save their country; for the battle,
The holy battle for eternal truth,
'Midst the conflicting forces of the world,
Perverseness, error, passion, is still nobler.
Of nature's solemn lore; not idle dreams,
But reveries that reach the starry heavens,
And read their shining wonders with delight,
And a mysterious awe; and days of toil
Through the linked paths of science, (intricate
As labyrinthine wonders, yet pure truth
Running through all their mazes,) still to chase
With an unwearied ardour; and calm eves
Of deep and blissful prayer to consecrate,
And rise from earth,—its hopes, and fears, and cares
Cast like an earthly garment, till the soul
Stands disencumbered at the throne of God,
Filled with all blest aspirings; this is not
Like a child's careless game; it is a task
For an immortal spirit.—Ancient heroes
Achieved no greater victory; though they died
In arms, to save their country; for the battle,
The holy battle for eternal truth,
'Midst the conflicting forces of the world,
Perverseness, error, passion, is still nobler.
