THE PHILOSOPHER IN SEARCH OF A RELIGION 247
And if I look beyond this narrow bound,
Which seems to men so vast, through endless space,
I see, revolving ever round and round.
Spheres following spheres, which whirl in endless race —
All, all afloat, yet all upheld, like me,
By the same law of central gravity.
And if, unwearied, still I strain my flight
Beyond those marvellous milky drifts where float
Bright worlds that swarm like snowflakes, day and night Each urging through blank space its little boat,
Oarless and rudderless, yet each in fine
Destined to reach its port by love divine, —
Great Father, have I found thee ? There's no shore.
Interminable space, yet light to light Answering beyond for aye. I can no more ;
Fancy can find no wings for such a flight ; Thy beacon fires, more far than thought can flee, Flash on and onward to infinity.
Now to that spark would I look back once more. By men called Earth, pale glimmering as a star,
One moment bright, the next all clouded o'er. Scarce a mere speck, so infinitely far ;
And now, my poor paternal acres, where,
Where are ye, that once cost ine so much care ?
Where what earth's fools name wealth ? How passing small Man's works ! How weak his passions, vain his troubles !
Earth, sun, moon, stars, the heavens, mere nothings all ; The world itself, one of ten million bubbles,
Lit up by God's own beam, one moment bright ;
'Tis all 1 know — the rest is dark as night.
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