What incantation to the earth addresses He, To make it produce cattle,--whose hides used may be? The hesitations of each puzzled child of thought Arise from some enigma by which God’s him caught. 85 On horns of a dilemma is he fixed, poor man. ‘Shall I do this,’ says he, ‘when ’ts opposite I can?’ From God, too, is the power to make selection’s choice Of two solutions. One is taken, through inward voice. Wouldst thou be always free from hesitation, fool? Stuff not thy mind’s ear tight with doubt’s dull cotton-wool; That thou mayst solve the riddles God may set for thee;— That thou mayst understand the full of mercy free. Then shall thy heart receive His inspiration’s gift,— A power of speaking from an inward impulse’ drift. 90 The ear and eye of soul are organs not of sense; The ears of sense and mind are not like soul’s, intense. The word “_compulsion_” puts me out of humour quite. Who hath not love of God, compulsion’s slave’s, by right. This union’s based on truth (compulsion is too proud); It is a glimpse of sunshine breaking through a cloud. Be it compulsion. Man’s compulsion it is not;— Not the compulsion of browbeating from a sot. Compulsion’s felt by them, my very worthy friend, Whose eyes of faith, ope’d in their hearts, on God attend. 95 The absent and the future patent are to them; To speak about the past is what they most contemn. Election and compulsion, theirs, are not the same. As dewdrops in the oyster-shell rare pearls became.[193] Outside, they’re dewdrops, solely, whether great or small; Inside they’re pearls of price, whose value knows no fall. Such men by nature are just like the musk-deer’s pod; It’s fed with blood of artery, musk it yields, through God. Ask not how ’tis that outward blood can change like this; Becoming musk when in the pod secreted ’tis. 100 Ask not how copper vile, by wise alchemist’s art, Is changed to gold when solved by elixir in part.[194] Election and compulsion, fancies both, in thee; But when by saints they’re viewed, God’s glory may they be. Upon the table, bread’s a lifeless, senseless mass; When taken in man’s mouth, the soul it joins, in class. On table transubstantiation takes not place;[195] The soul it is transforms it, nourished by God’s grace. Such is the soul’s great power; most perspicacious man, So long as that soul life and power retain can. 105 A human being, mass of mingled flesh and blood, Moved by the Lord, can cleave hill, dale, mine, and sea’s flood. The strength of strongest man can merely split a stone;[196] The Power that informs man’s soul can cleave the moon.[197] If man’s heart but untie the mouth of mystery’s sack, His soul soon soars aloft beyond the starry track.