Nor is it altogether “regret” that he feels; for the face and the voice of his friend come back; and the voice speaks of me and mine—his sister as well as himself—and he is conscious of
“Less yearning for the friendship fled,
Than some strong bond which is to be”—
reunion hereafter.
CXVII.
“O days and hours”—he declares their work to be the accumulation of joy they will bring to that future meeting, from which at present they are detaining him.
“Delight a hundredfold” will accrue from this postponement—the contribution of every grain of sand through the hourglass, of “every span of shade” across the sundial, of every click in the watch, and each day’s sun.
CXVIII.
A friend observes that this Poem is a remarkable exposition of the nebular hypothesis, as sanctioned by geologists.
Look at “this work of Time,” its slow growth and effect; and don’t believe that “human love and truth” dissolve and pass away, as being no more than “dying Nature’s earth and lime,” insensible and finite.
Rather trust that