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The fire, to which the Magi prayed, The Aztecs sacrificed and kneeled, Whose ceremonies now are sealed, Whose priests are dust, whose people weighed, Since God permitted such, should man,-- All ignorant of heavenly ends,-- Despise the means, since Earth began, God works by to perfect His plan, Which through immediate forms ascends Of Nature, lifting, race by race, Man to the beauty of His face? Through Nature only we arrive At God: identical with truth, By periods of repeated youth, Through Nature must the Ages strive; The Epochs, that must purify Themselves through her experience, Her knowledge, which each Age lays by To clothe it better for the sky In robes of new intelligence Befitting life, that upwardly Approaches ends which none can see.