Unto the ultimate Truth: I burn
To live that later lives may learn.
XIV.
Simple to say; to do complex!
That we this higher type of man
May surely generate, o’ nights
Our lesser brains we vainly vex.
Our knowledge lacks; we miss the plan.
Fools hope our luck will set to rights
Our skill that ’s baulked. Yet now we know
At least the way we wish to go.
XV.
This task assume! Colossal mind
And toil transcending, concentrate
Not on the metaphysic wild;
Not on the deserts vast and blind
Of dark Religion; not on Fate,
The barren ocean; but the Child
Shows us a beacon in the night;
A lens to lure and lend the light.
II