twilight, wherever the blue heaven is hung by clouds or sown with stars,
wherever are forms with transparent boundaries, wherever are outlets
into celestial space, wherever is danger, and awe, and love,--there is
Beauty, plenteous as rain, shed for thee, and though thou shouldest walk
the world over, thou shalt not be able to find a condition inopportune
or ignoble.
*****
EXPERIENCE.
THE lords of life, the lords of life,--
I saw them pass,
In their own guise,
Like and unlike,
Portly and grim,
Use and Surprise,
Surface and Dream,
Succession swift, and spectral Wrong,
Temperament without a tongue,
And the inventor of the game
Omnipresent without name;--
Some to see, some to be guessed,
They marched from east to west:
Little man, least of all,
Among the legs of his guardians tall,
Walked about with puzzled look:--
Him by the hand dear Nature took;
Dearest Nature, strong and kind,
Whispered, 'Darling, never mind!
Tomorrow they will wear another face,
The founder thou! these are thy race!'
II. EXPERIENCE.
WHERE do we find ourselves? In a series of which we do not know the
extremes, and believe that it has none. We wake and find ourselves on a
stair; there are stairs below us, which we seem to have ascended; there
are stairs above us, many a one, which go upward and out of sight. But
the Genius which according to the old belief stands at the door by which
we enter, and gives us the lethe to drink, that we may tell no tales,
mixed the cup too strongly, and we cannot shake off the lethargy now at
noonday. Sleep lingers all our lifetime about our eyes, as night hovers
all day in the boughs of the fir-tree. All things swim and glitter. Our
life is not so much threatened as our perception. Ghostlike we glide
through nature, and should not know our place again. Did our birth
fall in some fit of indigence and frugality in nature, that she was so
sparing of her fire and so liberal of her earth that it appears to us
that we lack the affirmative principle, and though we have health and
reason, yet we have no superfluity of spirit for new creation? We have
enough to live and bring the year about, but not an ounce to impart or
to invest. Ah that our Genius were a little more of a genius! We are
like millers on the lower levels of a stream, when the factories above
them have exhausted the water. We too fancy that the upper people must
have raised their dams.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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