Xxix

Partake my confidence! No creature 's made so mean But that, some way, it boasts, could we investigate, Its supreme worth: fulfils, by ordinance of fate, Its momentary task, gets glory all its own, Tastes triumph in the world, pre-eminent, alone. Where is the single grain of sand, 'mid millions heaped. Confusedly on the beach, but, did we know, has leaped Or will leap, would we wait, i' the century, some once, To the very throne of things?--earth's brightest for the nonce, When sunshine shall impinge on just that grain's facette Which fronts him fullest, first, returns his ray with jet Of promptest praise, thanks God best in creation's name! As firm is my belief, quick sense perceives the same Self-vindicating flash illustrate every man And woman of our mass, and prove, throughout the plan, No detail but, in place allotted it, was prime And perfect.