WHEN I SURVEY
’Tismidnight and I am in the country!The world is still and all the lights are outSave for the ones which stud the firmamentWith diamond clusters everywhere about.Like royal David pondering the HeavenI stand uncovered, torn and battle-spentAnd from my flocking meditations drivenBy spectral bears and lions; but not as heVictorious, for the raveners I smoteWere modern pride and doubt which stalked my faithFor its ewe-lamb of trust and by the throatDragged it away from me to bleating death.My staff is broken and the scroll I readA thousand nights like this lies crumpled whereI flung it as with fevered brow I fledIn mocking disillusion and despairFrom burnt-out wicks still sputtering in the oilOf self-illumination with the quizz“What am I? What the infinite IAm?”God! If the answer were in spirit-toilOr as the echo of WhateverIs!The stars smile down on me undimmed and calm.My soul! Have I so many years been blindTo all the glories wheeling o’er my headAnd starry with the challenge of my quest?Orion jewel-girdled and behindCoursing his dogs, in mighty combat strangeWith red-eyed Taurus!And the CharioteerFlashing toward the goal in full career!The thrice-immortal Twins the chase abreast,Cheering the race but keeping out of rangeOf Ursa’s long, lean paws where his huge frameLooms in the Polar Circle!Farther southThe Lion’s crouching form, with gleaming eyesAnd shadowy mouth!The Plowman of the skies,Proud of Arcturus’ fame!And HerculesSetting his giant heel upon the fangOf the unwieldy Dragon; while beyondThe Serpent’s Crown makes mockery of the deed!Far over by a handful of degreesImperial Vega rides the horizon,Harped on by Lyra, as when morning sangThe genesis of systems God-decreed.Already shines afar the Northern CrossWhere else were only dreariness and dark,Like flaming symbol of a holy CauseWhich bore its ensign up the Winter arcAnd more divinely glowed with sacred fireThan the tiaraed Lady of the ChairWith dazzling looks, or than her daughter whomImpetuous Perseus, thinking her so fair,Delivered by the right of passion fromThe Beast with jaws of grossness open wide.Nor would I miss the Eagle, argus-eyedAnd swift on wings of night.What! Call this Night,With thousand thousand suns in timeless spaceSo vast that distance gives no parallaxAnd centuries untold would pass ere lightFrom the remotest wanderer could burn!So vast yon fires are a hundred-foldMore luminous than ours to them in turn,And it in lost direction would dissolveFrom Earth’s own lode-star here yclept the Pole!So vast that hosts so numberless revolveIn unison as no assembled wholeOf man’s most perfect mechanism moves,Yet by the which he boasts perpetual noonAs though the elements he late improvesAnd plays them in a more triumphant tune.What! Call this Night and our small dial DayBecause by it we see ourselves and thenAs mere automatons! Such is the wayOf over-conscious men; why, even IAn hour since called light a flickering lamp,Philosophy the palimpsest of pedants,The universe a papier-mache script,While on it egotism’s ink was still too dampAnd speculation dript.But as I mount the Great Highway of PearlWhich turns to diamonds where its steeds strike hoofAnd chariot-wheels o’er the arena whirlUntil the course is flashing flint and fire—How my soul thrills with this real vision ofThe truth no lips can utter—with desireTo feel, not name, the Maker!Night is DayTo eyes which earth’s diurnal sun had blindedBut now see glory, majesty, design,Love eternal-minded, Will divine,Swinging out censers, filling space with throne-rooms,Ordering the times of destiny,Making music and revealing purposePerfect but unthinkable, yet in manTuning a chord of nature in responseTo fugitive notes of a melodious plan,To stray scintillas of a Master-spell,That we might have sufficient just of senseTo throb with feeling of theophany,Just awe enough of the IneffableOut of our pinpoint nothingness to cry“What is man that Thou art mindful of him?And what is he that he should give a NameWhich we with lips vainglorious can laud,A shape of Person to the Great IAMBefore we deign to worship Him asGod?”
’Tismidnight and I am in the country!The world is still and all the lights are outSave for the ones which stud the firmamentWith diamond clusters everywhere about.Like royal David pondering the HeavenI stand uncovered, torn and battle-spentAnd from my flocking meditations drivenBy spectral bears and lions; but not as heVictorious, for the raveners I smoteWere modern pride and doubt which stalked my faithFor its ewe-lamb of trust and by the throatDragged it away from me to bleating death.My staff is broken and the scroll I readA thousand nights like this lies crumpled whereI flung it as with fevered brow I fledIn mocking disillusion and despairFrom burnt-out wicks still sputtering in the oilOf self-illumination with the quizz“What am I? What the infinite IAm?”God! If the answer were in spirit-toilOr as the echo of WhateverIs!The stars smile down on me undimmed and calm.My soul! Have I so many years been blindTo all the glories wheeling o’er my headAnd starry with the challenge of my quest?Orion jewel-girdled and behindCoursing his dogs, in mighty combat strangeWith red-eyed Taurus!And the CharioteerFlashing toward the goal in full career!The thrice-immortal Twins the chase abreast,Cheering the race but keeping out of rangeOf Ursa’s long, lean paws where his huge frameLooms in the Polar Circle!Farther southThe Lion’s crouching form, with gleaming eyesAnd shadowy mouth!The Plowman of the skies,Proud of Arcturus’ fame!And HerculesSetting his giant heel upon the fangOf the unwieldy Dragon; while beyondThe Serpent’s Crown makes mockery of the deed!Far over by a handful of degreesImperial Vega rides the horizon,Harped on by Lyra, as when morning sangThe genesis of systems God-decreed.Already shines afar the Northern CrossWhere else were only dreariness and dark,Like flaming symbol of a holy CauseWhich bore its ensign up the Winter arcAnd more divinely glowed with sacred fireThan the tiaraed Lady of the ChairWith dazzling looks, or than her daughter whomImpetuous Perseus, thinking her so fair,Delivered by the right of passion fromThe Beast with jaws of grossness open wide.Nor would I miss the Eagle, argus-eyedAnd swift on wings of night.What! Call this Night,With thousand thousand suns in timeless spaceSo vast that distance gives no parallaxAnd centuries untold would pass ere lightFrom the remotest wanderer could burn!So vast yon fires are a hundred-foldMore luminous than ours to them in turn,And it in lost direction would dissolveFrom Earth’s own lode-star here yclept the Pole!So vast that hosts so numberless revolveIn unison as no assembled wholeOf man’s most perfect mechanism moves,Yet by the which he boasts perpetual noonAs though the elements he late improvesAnd plays them in a more triumphant tune.What! Call this Night and our small dial DayBecause by it we see ourselves and thenAs mere automatons! Such is the wayOf over-conscious men; why, even IAn hour since called light a flickering lamp,Philosophy the palimpsest of pedants,The universe a papier-mache script,While on it egotism’s ink was still too dampAnd speculation dript.But as I mount the Great Highway of PearlWhich turns to diamonds where its steeds strike hoofAnd chariot-wheels o’er the arena whirlUntil the course is flashing flint and fire—How my soul thrills with this real vision ofThe truth no lips can utter—with desireTo feel, not name, the Maker!Night is DayTo eyes which earth’s diurnal sun had blindedBut now see glory, majesty, design,Love eternal-minded, Will divine,Swinging out censers, filling space with throne-rooms,Ordering the times of destiny,Making music and revealing purposePerfect but unthinkable, yet in manTuning a chord of nature in responseTo fugitive notes of a melodious plan,To stray scintillas of a Master-spell,That we might have sufficient just of senseTo throb with feeling of theophany,Just awe enough of the IneffableOut of our pinpoint nothingness to cry“What is man that Thou art mindful of him?And what is he that he should give a NameWhich we with lips vainglorious can laud,A shape of Person to the Great IAMBefore we deign to worship Him asGod?”
’Tismidnight and I am in the country!The world is still and all the lights are outSave for the ones which stud the firmamentWith diamond clusters everywhere about.
’Tismidnight and I am in the country!
The world is still and all the lights are out
Save for the ones which stud the firmament
With diamond clusters everywhere about.
Like royal David pondering the HeavenI stand uncovered, torn and battle-spentAnd from my flocking meditations drivenBy spectral bears and lions; but not as heVictorious, for the raveners I smoteWere modern pride and doubt which stalked my faithFor its ewe-lamb of trust and by the throatDragged it away from me to bleating death.
Like royal David pondering the Heaven
I stand uncovered, torn and battle-spent
And from my flocking meditations driven
By spectral bears and lions; but not as he
Victorious, for the raveners I smote
Were modern pride and doubt which stalked my faith
For its ewe-lamb of trust and by the throat
Dragged it away from me to bleating death.
My staff is broken and the scroll I readA thousand nights like this lies crumpled whereI flung it as with fevered brow I fledIn mocking disillusion and despairFrom burnt-out wicks still sputtering in the oilOf self-illumination with the quizz
My staff is broken and the scroll I read
A thousand nights like this lies crumpled where
I flung it as with fevered brow I fled
In mocking disillusion and despair
From burnt-out wicks still sputtering in the oil
Of self-illumination with the quizz
“What am I? What the infinite IAm?”
“What am I? What the infinite IAm?”
God! If the answer were in spirit-toilOr as the echo of WhateverIs!
God! If the answer were in spirit-toil
Or as the echo of WhateverIs!
The stars smile down on me undimmed and calm.My soul! Have I so many years been blindTo all the glories wheeling o’er my headAnd starry with the challenge of my quest?
The stars smile down on me undimmed and calm.
My soul! Have I so many years been blind
To all the glories wheeling o’er my head
And starry with the challenge of my quest?
Orion jewel-girdled and behindCoursing his dogs, in mighty combat strangeWith red-eyed Taurus!
Orion jewel-girdled and behind
Coursing his dogs, in mighty combat strange
With red-eyed Taurus!
And the CharioteerFlashing toward the goal in full career!The thrice-immortal Twins the chase abreast,Cheering the race but keeping out of rangeOf Ursa’s long, lean paws where his huge frameLooms in the Polar Circle!
And the Charioteer
Flashing toward the goal in full career!
The thrice-immortal Twins the chase abreast,
Cheering the race but keeping out of range
Of Ursa’s long, lean paws where his huge frame
Looms in the Polar Circle!
Farther southThe Lion’s crouching form, with gleaming eyesAnd shadowy mouth!
Farther south
The Lion’s crouching form, with gleaming eyes
And shadowy mouth!
The Plowman of the skies,Proud of Arcturus’ fame!
The Plowman of the skies,
Proud of Arcturus’ fame!
And HerculesSetting his giant heel upon the fangOf the unwieldy Dragon; while beyondThe Serpent’s Crown makes mockery of the deed!
And Hercules
Setting his giant heel upon the fang
Of the unwieldy Dragon; while beyond
The Serpent’s Crown makes mockery of the deed!
Far over by a handful of degreesImperial Vega rides the horizon,Harped on by Lyra, as when morning sangThe genesis of systems God-decreed.
Far over by a handful of degrees
Imperial Vega rides the horizon,
Harped on by Lyra, as when morning sang
The genesis of systems God-decreed.
Already shines afar the Northern CrossWhere else were only dreariness and dark,Like flaming symbol of a holy CauseWhich bore its ensign up the Winter arcAnd more divinely glowed with sacred fireThan the tiaraed Lady of the ChairWith dazzling looks, or than her daughter whomImpetuous Perseus, thinking her so fair,Delivered by the right of passion fromThe Beast with jaws of grossness open wide.
Already shines afar the Northern Cross
Where else were only dreariness and dark,
Like flaming symbol of a holy Cause
Which bore its ensign up the Winter arc
And more divinely glowed with sacred fire
Than the tiaraed Lady of the Chair
With dazzling looks, or than her daughter whom
Impetuous Perseus, thinking her so fair,
Delivered by the right of passion from
The Beast with jaws of grossness open wide.
Nor would I miss the Eagle, argus-eyedAnd swift on wings of night.
Nor would I miss the Eagle, argus-eyed
And swift on wings of night.
What! Call this Night,With thousand thousand suns in timeless spaceSo vast that distance gives no parallaxAnd centuries untold would pass ere lightFrom the remotest wanderer could burn!
What! Call this Night,
With thousand thousand suns in timeless space
So vast that distance gives no parallax
And centuries untold would pass ere light
From the remotest wanderer could burn!
So vast yon fires are a hundred-foldMore luminous than ours to them in turn,And it in lost direction would dissolveFrom Earth’s own lode-star here yclept the Pole!
So vast yon fires are a hundred-fold
More luminous than ours to them in turn,
And it in lost direction would dissolve
From Earth’s own lode-star here yclept the Pole!
So vast that hosts so numberless revolveIn unison as no assembled wholeOf man’s most perfect mechanism moves,Yet by the which he boasts perpetual noonAs though the elements he late improvesAnd plays them in a more triumphant tune.
So vast that hosts so numberless revolve
In unison as no assembled whole
Of man’s most perfect mechanism moves,
Yet by the which he boasts perpetual noon
As though the elements he late improves
And plays them in a more triumphant tune.
What! Call this Night and our small dial DayBecause by it we see ourselves and thenAs mere automatons! Such is the wayOf over-conscious men; why, even IAn hour since called light a flickering lamp,Philosophy the palimpsest of pedants,The universe a papier-mache script,While on it egotism’s ink was still too dampAnd speculation dript.
What! Call this Night and our small dial Day
Because by it we see ourselves and then
As mere automatons! Such is the way
Of over-conscious men; why, even I
An hour since called light a flickering lamp,
Philosophy the palimpsest of pedants,
The universe a papier-mache script,
While on it egotism’s ink was still too damp
And speculation dript.
But as I mount the Great Highway of PearlWhich turns to diamonds where its steeds strike hoofAnd chariot-wheels o’er the arena whirlUntil the course is flashing flint and fire—How my soul thrills with this real vision ofThe truth no lips can utter—with desireTo feel, not name, the Maker!
But as I mount the Great Highway of Pearl
Which turns to diamonds where its steeds strike hoof
And chariot-wheels o’er the arena whirl
Until the course is flashing flint and fire—
How my soul thrills with this real vision of
The truth no lips can utter—with desire
To feel, not name, the Maker!
Night is DayTo eyes which earth’s diurnal sun had blindedBut now see glory, majesty, design,Love eternal-minded, Will divine,Swinging out censers, filling space with throne-rooms,Ordering the times of destiny,Making music and revealing purposePerfect but unthinkable, yet in manTuning a chord of nature in responseTo fugitive notes of a melodious plan,
Night is Day
To eyes which earth’s diurnal sun had blinded
But now see glory, majesty, design,
Love eternal-minded, Will divine,
Swinging out censers, filling space with throne-rooms,
Ordering the times of destiny,
Making music and revealing purpose
Perfect but unthinkable, yet in man
Tuning a chord of nature in response
To fugitive notes of a melodious plan,
To stray scintillas of a Master-spell,That we might have sufficient just of senseTo throb with feeling of theophany,Just awe enough of the IneffableOut of our pinpoint nothingness to cry
To stray scintillas of a Master-spell,
That we might have sufficient just of sense
To throb with feeling of theophany,
Just awe enough of the Ineffable
Out of our pinpoint nothingness to cry
“What is man that Thou art mindful of him?And what is he that he should give a NameWhich we with lips vainglorious can laud,A shape of Person to the Great IAMBefore we deign to worship Him asGod?”
“What is man that Thou art mindful of him?
And what is he that he should give a Name
Which we with lips vainglorious can laud,
A shape of Person to the Great IAM
Before we deign to worship Him asGod?”