Gargoyles

IX. So, be content! Should science cleave The veil of things and show us peace, ‘Well :—but by wild imagining Think not a golden robe to weave! Such moulder. By fantastic ease Ye come not well to anything. Work and be sober: dotage thinks By worth of words to slay the Sphinx. x. Things as they are—of these take hold, Their heart of wonder throb to thine! All things are matter and force and sense, No two alone. All’s one: the gold Of truth is no reward divine Of faith, but wage of evidence. The clod, the God, the spar, the star Mete in thy measure, as they are xi. So lifts the agony of the world From this mine head, that bowed awhile Before the terror suddenly shown. 9