And Virtue is more than a shade or a sound, And Man may her voice, in this being, obey; And though ever he slip on the stony ground, Yet, ever again to the godlike way, To the _science_ of Good though the Wise may be blind, Yet the _practice_ is plain to the childlike mind. And a God there is--over Space, over Time; While the Human Will rocks, like a reed, to and fro, Lives the Will of the Holy--A Purpose Sublime, A Thought woven over creation below; Changing and shifting the All we inherit, But changeless through all One Immutable Spirit! Hold fast the Three Words of Belief--though about From the lip to the lip, full of meaning, they flee; Yet they take not their birth from the being without-- But a voice from within must their oracle be; And never all worth in the Man can be o'er, Till in those Three Words he believes no more. * * * * * THE WORDS OF ERROR (1799) Three Errors there are, that for ever are found On the lips of the good, on the lips of the best; But empty their meaning and hollow their sound-- And slight is the comfort they bring to the breast. The fruits of existence escape from the clasp Of the seeker who strives but those shadows to grasp-- So long as Man dreams of some Age in _this_ life When the Right and the Good will all evil subdue; For the Right and the Good lead us ever to strife, And wherever they lead us, the Fiend will pursue. And (till from the earth borne, and stifled at length) The earth that he touches still gifts him with strength![10] So long as Man fancies that Fortune will live, Like a bride with her lover, united with Worth; For her favors, alas! to the mean she will give-- And Virtue possesses no title to earth! That Foreigner wanders to regions afar, Where the lands of her birthright immortally are! So long as Man dreams that, to mortals a gift, The Truth in her fulness of splendor will shine; The veil of the goddess no earth-born may lift, And all we can learn is--to guess and divine I Dost thou seek, in a dogma, to prison her form? The spirit flies forth on the wings of the storm! O, Noble Soul! fly from delusions like these, More heavenly belief be it thine to adore; Where the Ear never hearkens, the Eye never sees, Meet the rivers of Beauty and Truth evermore! Not _without_ thee the streams--there the Dull seek them;--No! Look _within_ thee--behold both the fount and the flow! * * * * * [Illustration: THE LAY OF THE BELL JULIUS BENEZUR] THE LAY OF THE BELL[11] (1799) "_Vivos voco--Mortuos plango--Fulgura frango_." [12] I