Until the beautiful picture, as ordained,
Comes out, exact to the pattern, and reveals
The artificer’s plan, the pattern, as arranged,
By bishops, politic statesmen, teachers, guides,
Who hold it in reserve, their final test
Of truth, for times like this. He had been so sure
Of something deeper than all schemes of thought
That he had all too lightly primed himself
With “facts” to match their fables; hastily crammed
Into his mind’s convenient travelling bag