ODE TO OBLIVION 341
Men build their fanes more stately than before.
Thou canst consume but Beauty's grosser part ;
Lo, all that is most excellent in art
Survives thy power unharmed, deep in the human heart.
In vain, great enemy, dost thou employ Thy might to undermine and to destroy ! Truth says, he vainly works who seeks to spoil ; Her sacred law at last shall thwart thy toil. Even in long-buried ashes man can trace The lines that teach the history of his race. Old Egypt's records thou hadst hid in caves — The tale is whispered from the mummies' graves ; Thy lavas turned vast cities to a tomb — Earth cannot keep the secret in her womb ; Not even thy hottest fires have proved so strong. But Science' eye, the cindered scrolls among, ^^ Reads plainly out once more the poet's idlest song.
Nature still more defies thee, where the past Heaves forth its rifted wreck of reptiles vast. Huge elephants, and many a beastly shape. Whose bones thy slow-consuming grasp escape, But shows no sign of intellectual man, — Life most ignoble where life first began. And Reason latest born. Hence men may see Foreshadowed a more bright futurity ; The world's great Builder doth his work restore. In every age more perfect than before, Till life at last shall quite forget its tears. More beauteous forms shall move through wider spheres, Drawing nearer and more near to God through endless years.
Out then, poor child of Discord ! since God's thought Hath reasons for each work his hand hath wrought.
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