Cxxviii

"Why final? Why the more Worth credence now than when such truth proved false before?" Because a novel point impresses now: each lie Redounded to the praise of man, was victory Man's nature had both right to get, and might to gain, And by no means implied submission to the reign Of other quite as real a nature, that saw fit To have its way with man, not man his way with it. This time, acknowledgment and acquiescence quell Their contrary in man; promotion proves as well Defeat: and Truth, unlike the False with Truth's outside, Neither plumes up his will nor puffs him out with pride. I fancy, there must lurk some cogency i' the claim, Man, such abatement made, submits to, all the same. Soul finds no triumph, here, to register like Sense With whom 't is ask and have,--the want, the evidence That the thing wanted, soon or late, will be supplied. This indeed plumes up will; this, sure, puffs out with pride, When, reading records right, man's instincts still attest Promotion comes to Sense because Sense likes it best; For bodies sprouted legs, through a desire to run: While hands, when fain to filch, got fingers one by one, And nature, that 's ourself, accommodative brings To bear that, tired of legs which walk, we now bud wings Since of a mind to fly. Such savor in the nose Of Sense would stimulate Soul sweetly, I suppose, Soul with its proper itch of instinct, prompting clear To recognize soul's self soul's only master here Alike from first to last. But if time's pressure, light's Or rather dark's approach, wrest thoroughly the rights Of rule away, and bid the soul submissive bear Another soul than it play master everywhere In great and small,--this time, I fancy, none disputes There 's something in the fact that such conclusion suits Nowise the pride of man, nor yet chimes in with attributes Conspicuous in the lord of nature. He receives And not demands--not first likes faith and then believes.