DEDICATION
Before a midnight breaks in storm,Or herded sea in wrath,Ye know what wavering gusts informThe greater tempest’s path;Till the loosed windDrive all from mind,Except Distress, which, so will prophets cry,O’ercame them, houseless, from the unhinting sky.Ere rivers league against the landIn piratry of flood,Ye know what waters slip and standWhere seldom water stood.Yet who will note,Till fields afloat,And washen carcass and the returning well,Trumpet what these poor heralds strove to tell?Ye know who use the Crystal Ball(To peer by stealth on Doom),The Shade that, shaping first of all,Prepares an empty room.Then doth It passLike breath from glass,But, on the extorted vision bowed intent,No man considers why It came or went.Before the years reborn beholdThemselves with stranger eye,And the sport-making Gods of old,Like Samson slaying, die,Many shall hearThe all-pregnant sphere,Bow to the birth and sweat, but—speech denied—Sit dumb or—dealt in part—fall weak and wide.Yet instant to fore-shadowed needThe eternal balance swings;That wingèd men the Fates may breedSo soon as Fate hath wings.These shall possessOur littleness,And in the imperial task (as worthy) layUp our lives’ all to piece one giant day.
Before a midnight breaks in storm,Or herded sea in wrath,Ye know what wavering gusts informThe greater tempest’s path;Till the loosed windDrive all from mind,Except Distress, which, so will prophets cry,O’ercame them, houseless, from the unhinting sky.Ere rivers league against the landIn piratry of flood,Ye know what waters slip and standWhere seldom water stood.Yet who will note,Till fields afloat,And washen carcass and the returning well,Trumpet what these poor heralds strove to tell?Ye know who use the Crystal Ball(To peer by stealth on Doom),The Shade that, shaping first of all,Prepares an empty room.Then doth It passLike breath from glass,But, on the extorted vision bowed intent,No man considers why It came or went.Before the years reborn beholdThemselves with stranger eye,And the sport-making Gods of old,Like Samson slaying, die,Many shall hearThe all-pregnant sphere,Bow to the birth and sweat, but—speech denied—Sit dumb or—dealt in part—fall weak and wide.Yet instant to fore-shadowed needThe eternal balance swings;That wingèd men the Fates may breedSo soon as Fate hath wings.These shall possessOur littleness,And in the imperial task (as worthy) layUp our lives’ all to piece one giant day.
Before a midnight breaks in storm,Or herded sea in wrath,Ye know what wavering gusts informThe greater tempest’s path;Till the loosed windDrive all from mind,Except Distress, which, so will prophets cry,O’ercame them, houseless, from the unhinting sky.
Ere rivers league against the landIn piratry of flood,Ye know what waters slip and standWhere seldom water stood.Yet who will note,Till fields afloat,And washen carcass and the returning well,Trumpet what these poor heralds strove to tell?
Ye know who use the Crystal Ball(To peer by stealth on Doom),The Shade that, shaping first of all,Prepares an empty room.Then doth It passLike breath from glass,But, on the extorted vision bowed intent,No man considers why It came or went.
Before the years reborn beholdThemselves with stranger eye,And the sport-making Gods of old,Like Samson slaying, die,Many shall hearThe all-pregnant sphere,Bow to the birth and sweat, but—speech denied—Sit dumb or—dealt in part—fall weak and wide.
Yet instant to fore-shadowed needThe eternal balance swings;That wingèd men the Fates may breedSo soon as Fate hath wings.These shall possessOur littleness,And in the imperial task (as worthy) layUp our lives’ all to piece one giant day.