For ah! how surely, How soon and surely will disenchantment come, When first to herself she boasts to walk securely, And drives the master spirit away from his home; Seeing the marvellous things that make the morning Are marvels of every day, familiar, and some Have lost with use, like earthly robes, their adorning, As earthly joys the charm of a first delight, And some are fallen from awe to neglect and scorning. {12} Let us say then with the ancient seer: "As for me, I would seek unto God; which doeth great things and unsearchable, marvellous things without number." Footnotes: {12} Robert Bridges, _Prometheus the Firegiver_, 824.