45

Brighter shall shine men’s clay
Than angels’ light, one day;
Earth through our Destiny
Turn to a starry sky.

The fancies in our head
That upon storms were fed
One day shall soar, and clear
The whirlpool of the sphere.

Why askest thou of me?
Consider Man, and see
How, Mind-developed still,
Sublime this subject will.

Come fashioned forth, sublime.
This common thought, in time,
And with its beauty’s rapture
Even God’s heart shall capture.