Ii

Now, as I hear upon the caverned night The ocean’s ceaseless and stupendous dirge, And one by one the stars approach its verge, The deep seems all one prayer, and the light Of farthest suns but questions for the sight Of men who yet may test the Dark, to urge Life’s portent from the starlight and the surge, And read the ancient Mystery aright.

Do blinded powers from their darkness seek, Thro human sight, that secret to attain? From fonts how distant is the spirit fed? And who are we? And is it we who speak The Why we utter to the night of pain, The Whither to the unresponding dead?