How Those Beams Are Born, As Little Knows He What Unlocks Their Fount: And Men Have Oft Grown Old Among Their Books To Die Case-Hardened In Their Ignorance, Whose Careless Youth Had Promised What Long Years Of Unremitted Labour Ne'er Performed: While, Contrary, It Has Chanced Some Idle Day, To Autumn Loiterers Just As Fancy-Free As The Midges In The Sun, Gives Birth At Last To Truth Produced Mysteriously As Cape Of Cloud Grown Out Of The Invisible Air. Hence, May Not Truth Be Lodged Alike In All, The Lowest As The Highest? Some Slight Film The Interposing Bar Which Binds A Soul And Makes The Idiot, Just As Makes The Sage Some Film Removed, The Happy Outlet Whence Truth Issues Proudly? See This Soul Of Ours! How It Strives Weakly In The Child, Is Loosed In Manhood, Clogged By Sickness, Back Compelled By Age And Waste, Set Free At Last By Death: Why Is It, Flesh Enthrals It Or Enthrones? What Is This Flesh We Have To Penetrate? Oh, Not Alone When Life Flows Still, Do Truth And Power Emerge, But Also When Strange Chance Ruffles Its Current; In Unused Conjuncture, When Sickness Breaks The Body Hunger, Watching, Excess Or Languor Oftenest Death'S Approach, Peril, Deep Joy Or Woe. One Man Shall Crawl Through Life Surrounded With All Stirring Things, Unmoved; And He Goes Mad: And From The Wreck Of What He Was, By His Wild Talk Alone, You First Collect How Great A Spirit He Hid. Therefore, Set Free The Soul Alike In All, Discovering The True Laws By Which The Flesh Accloys The Spirit! We May Not Be Doomed To Cope With Seraphs, But At Least The Rest Shall Cope With Us. Make No More Giants, God, But Elevate The Race At Once! We Ask To Put Forth Just Our Strength, Our Human Strength, All Starting Fairly, All Equipped Alike, Gifted Alike, All Eagle-Eyed, True-Hearted See If We Cannot Beat Thine Angels Yet! Such Is My Task. I Go To Gather This The Sacred Knowledge, Here And There Dispersed About The World, Long Lost Or Never Found. And Why Should I Be Sad Or Lorn Of Hope? Why Ever Make Man'S Good Distinct From God'S, Or, Finding They Are One, Why Dare Mistrust? Who Shall Succeed If Not One Pledged Like Me? Mine Is No Mad Attempt To Build A World Apart From His, Like Those Who Set Themselves To Find The Nature Of The Spirit They Bore, And, Taught Betimes That All Their Gorgeous Dreams Were Only Born To Vanish In This Life, Refused To Fit Them To Its Narrow Sphere, But Chose To Figure Forth Another World And Other Frames Meet For Their Vast Desires, And All A Dream! Thus Was Life Scorned; But Life Shall Yet Be Crowned: Twine Amaranth! I Am Priest! And All For Yielding With A Lively Spirit A Poor Existence, Parting With A Youth Like Those Who Squander Every Energy Convertible To Good, On Painted Toys, Breath-Bubbles, Gilded Dust! And Though I Spurn All Adventitious Aims, From Empty Praise To Love'S Award, Yet Whoso Deems Such Helps Important, And Concerns Himself For Me, May Know Even These Will Follow With The Rest As In The Steady Rolling Mayne, Asleep Yonder, Is Mixed Its Mass Of Schistous Ore. My Own Affections Laid To Rest Awhile, Will Waken Purified, Subdued Alone By All I Have Achieved. Till Then Till Then . . . Ah, The Time-Wiling Loitering Of A Page Through Bower And Over Lawn, Till Eve Shall Bring The Stately Lady'S Presence Whom He Loves The Broken Sleep Of The Fisher Whose Rough Coat Enwraps The Queenly Pearl These Are Faint Types! See, See, They Look On Me: I Triumph Now! But One Thing, Festus, Michal! I Have Told All I Shall E'Er Disclose To Mortal: Say Do You Believe I Shall Accomplish This? Festus. I Do Believe! Michal. I Ever Did Believe! Paracelsus. Those Words Shall Never Fade From Out My Brain! This Earnest Of The End Shall Never Fade! Are There Not, Festus, Are There Not, Dear Michal, Two Points In The Adventure Of The Diver, One When, A Beggar, He Prepares To Plunge, One When, A Prince, He Rises With His Pearl? Festus, I Plunge! Festus. We Wait You When You Rise!