Look on, and laugh; style yourself God alone; Strangle some day with a cross olive-stone! All that is right enough: but why want us To know that you yourself know thus and thus?) "The world shall bow to me conceiving all Man's life, who see its blisses, great and small, Afar--not tasting any; no machine To exercise my utmost will is mine: Be mine mere consciousness! Let men perceive What I could do, a mastery believe, Asserted and established to the throng By their selected evidence of song Which now shall prove, whate'er they are, or seek To be, I am--whose words, not actions speak, Who change no standards of perfection, vex With no strange forms created to perplex, But just perform their bidding and no more, At their own satiating-point give o'er, While each shall love in me the love that leads His soul to power's perfection." Song, not deeds, (For we get tired) was chosen. Fate would brook Mankind no other organ; he would look For not another channel to dispense His own volition by, receive men's sense Of its supremacy--would live content, Obstructed else, with merely verse for vent. [Sidenote: Yet is able to imagine everything,] Nor should, for instance, strength an outlet seek And, striving, be admired; nor grace bespeak Wonder, displayed in gracious attitudes; Nor wisdom, poured forth, change unseemly moods: But he would give and take on song's one point. Like some huge throbbing stone that, poised a-joint, Sounds, to affect on its basaltic bed, Must sue in just one accent; tempests shed Thunder, and raves the windstorm: only let That key by any little noise be set-- The far benighted hunter's halloo pitch On that, the hungry curlew chance to scritch Or serpent hiss it, rustling through the rift, However loud, however low--all lift The groaning monster, stricken to the heart. Lo ye, the world's concernment, for its part, [Sidenote: If the world esteem this equivalent.] And this, for his, will hardly interfere! Its businesses in blood and blaze this year But while the hour away--a pastime slight Till he shall step upon the platform: right! And, now thus much is settled, cast in rough, Proved feasible, be counselled! thought enough,-- Slumber, Sordello! any day will serve: Were it a less digested plan! how swerve To-morrow? Meanwhile eat these sun-dried grapes, And watch the soaring hawk there! Life escapes Merrily thus. He thoroughly read o'er His truchman Naddo's missive six times more, Praying him visit Mantua and supply A famished world. The evening star was high When he reached Mantua, but his fame arrived Before him: friends applauded, foes connived, And Naddo looked an angel, and the rest Angels, and all these angels would he blest