He hopes that nothing has been made in vain--
"That not one life shall be destroy'd, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete."
But how reverently does he touch this mysterious subject!
"Behold, we know not anything; I can but trust that good shall fall At last--far off--at last, to all, And every winter change to spring.
So runs my dream: but what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry."
"Then was I as a child that cries, But, crying, knows his father near."
He pursues the awful theme, and asks whether the wish for an universal restoration to life, does not spring from what is "likest God" in our own souls, His unlimited goodwill towards men, which would have all come to a knowledge of the truth?
for we find Nature, whilst careful in preserving the type of each species, utterly reckless of the separate members. We find, too, that out of "fifty (_myriad_)[31] seeds" sown, only one perhaps germinates. He falters and falls down
"Upon the great world's altar-stairs,[32] That slope thro' darkness up to God;"--
but still he stretches forth "lame hands of faith"
"To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope"--
the hope of a final restitution of all things.
He said that Nature preserved each type; but no, some species are already extinct; and Nature says that she cares not for preserving anything, and so, in geological strata, we find the fossil remains of creatures that no longer exist.[33] Why then may not man,
"Who seemed so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes,"
also perish, and have his dust blown about the desert,
If he be "no more"[34]--if there be nothing beyond this life for him--then is man but a monster, a dream, a discord--"dragons of the prime," the Ichthyosauri that lived in the slime of chaos, were his betters!
"O life as futile, then, as frail! O for thy voice to soothe and bless![35] What hope of answer or redress? Behind the veil, behind the veil."
"Peace, come away," may possibly be addressed to his sister, whom he now calls away from the sad subject which his earthly song had treated.
He says his companion's cheeks are pale, so it is time that they should turn to other things, though in doing so, he must leave half his own life behind. His "friend is richly shrined;" but what will become of himself? "I shall pass; my work will fail."