II.
And they say you’re like your father?—How can I know, for I look
With a dead eye into darkness; yet I’ve felt upon a book
Something tell me: “In His form and with His likeness made He man:”
So you’re like your father, and he looks like God—but, ah! the ban,
A Damocles-blade, keeps hanging, as o’er ancient Adam’s head,
O’er last moment’s latest Adam, just arisen from the dead.