Sleeping safe in the bosom of the plain, Look out if yonder be not day again That's the appropriate country; there, man's thought, Self-gathered for an outbreak, as it ought, Leave we the unlettered plain its herd and crop ; On a tall mountain, citied to the top, Crowded with culture! All the peaks soar, but one the rest excels: No, yonder sparkle is the citadel's Thither our path lies; wind we up the heights! Our low life was the level's and the night's : Step to a tune, square chests, erect each head, This is our master, famous, calm, and dead, Sleep, crop and herd! sleep, darkling thorpe and croft Safe from the weather! He, whom we convoy to his grave aloft, Singing together, He was a man born with thy face and throat, Long he lived nameless: how should spring take note Till lo, the little touch, and youth was gone! Cramped and diminished, Moaned he, "New measures, other feet anon! No, that's the world's way; (keep the mountain side, He knew the signal, and stepped on with pride Over men's pity; Left play for work, and grappled with the world Bent on escaping: "What's in the scroll," quoth he, "thou keepest furled ? Show me their shaping, Theirs who most studied man, the bard and sage,- Straight got by heart that book to its last page: Yea, but we found him bald too, eyes like lead, "Time to taste life," another would have said, This man said rather, "Actual life comes next? Grant I have mastered learning's crabbed text, Let me know all! Prate not of most or least, Even to the crumbs I'd fain eat up the feast, Oh, such a life as he resolved to live, When he had learned it, When he had gathered all books had to give! Image the whole, then execute the parts— Fancy the fabric Quite, ere you build, ere steel strike fire from quartz, (Here's the town-gate reached; there's the market-place Gaping before us.) Yea, this in him was the peculiar grace That before living he'd learn how to live- Earn the means first-God surely will contrive Others mistrust and say, "But time escapes! He said, "What's time? Leave Now for dogs and apes! Back to his book then deeper drooped his head: Leaden before, his eyes grew dross of lead : "Now, master, take a little rest!"--not he! Step two abreast, the way winds narrowly!) Back to his studies, fresher than at first, He (soul-hydroptic with a sacred thirst) Oh, if we draw a circle premature, Greedy for quick returns of profit sure Was it not great? did not he throw on God God's task to make the heavenly period Did not he magnify the mind, show clear He would not discount life, as fools do here, He ventured neck or nothing--heaven's success "Wilt thou trust death or not?" He answered, "Yes! Hence with life's pale lure!" That low man seeks a little thing to do, This high man, with a great thing to pursue, That low man goes on adding one to one, This high man, aiming at a million, That, has the world here--should he need the next, This, throws himself on God, and unperplexed So, with the throttling hands of death at strife, Still, through the rattle, parts of speech were rife: He settled Hoti's business-let it be ! Properly based Oun Gave us the doctrine of the enclitic De, Well, here's the platform, here's the proper place: All ye highfliers of the feathered race, Here's the top-peak; the multitude below This man decided not to Live but Know- Here-here's his place, where meteors shoot, clouds form, Lightnings are loosened, Stars come and go! Let joy break with the storm, Lofty designs must close in like effects : Leave him-still loftier than the world suspects, "As certain also of your own poets have said-" CLEON the poet (from the sprinkled isles, And laugh their pride when the light wave lisps 66 To Protus in his Tyranny: much health! They give thy letter to me, even now: And one white she-slave, from the group dispersed Woven of sea-wools, with her two white hands |