Gargoyles

Incalculably small, its closest cluster Mere milky lustre Staining the infinite darkness! Base and blind Our minion mind Seeks a great light, a light sufficient, light Insufferably bright, So hidden for an hour: imagining This vast vain thing, We call it God, and Father. Empty hand And prayer unplanned Stretch fatuous to the void. Ah! men my friends, What fury sends This folly to intoxicate your hearts? Dread air disparts Your vital ways from these unsavoury follies, Black melancholies Sit straddled on your bended backs. The throne Of the unknown Is fit for children. We are too well ware How vain is prayer, How naught is great, since all is immanent, The vast content 56