O mighty energy, never-failing flame! O patient toils and journeys in the name Of Trade! No journey ever was the same As another, nor ever came again one task; And each man's face is an ever-changing mask. From the minutest cell to the lordliest star All things are unique, though all of their kindred are. And though all things exist for ever, all life is change, And the oldest passions come to each heart in a garment strange. Though life be as brief as a flower and the body but dust, Man walks the earth holding both body and spirit in trust; And the various glories of sense are spread for his delight, New pageants glow in the sunset, new stars are born in the night, And clouds come every day, and never a shape recurs, And the grass grows every year, yet never the same blade stirs Another spring, and no delving man breaks again the self-same clod As he did last year though he stand once more where last year he trod. O wonderful procession fore-ordained by God! Wonderful in unity, wonderful in diversity. Contemplate it, soul, and see How the material universe moves and strives with anguish and glee!
I was born for that reason, With muscles, heart and eyes, To watch each following season, To work and to be wise; Not body and mind to tether To unseen things alone, But to traverse together The known and the unknown. My muscles were not welded To waste away in sleep, My bones were never builded To throw upon a heap. "Man worships God in action," Senses and reason call, "And thought is putrefaction, If thought is all in all!"
Most of the guests are gone; look over there, Against a pillar leans with absent air A tall, dark, pallid waiter. There he stands Limply, with vacant eyes and listless hands. He dreams of some small Tyrolean town, A church, a bridge, a stream that rushes down. A frustrate, hankering man, this one short time Unconscious he into my gaze did climb; He sinks again, again he is but one Of many myriads underneath the sun, Now faint, now vivid.... How puzzling is it all! For now again, in spite of all, The lights, the chairs, the diners, and the hall Lose their opacity. Fool! exert your will, Finish your whisky up, and pay your bill.
When I see truth, do I seek truth Only that I may things denote, And, rich by striving, deck my youth As with a vain unusual coat?
