The foreseen whole.
And yet we ask, why thus allowed
This dawn, these hopes so fondly nursed,
These nascent gifts so high endowed,
Yet subtly cursed?
Cursed too by no mere vacant breath,
No priestly ban, or seer’s vain rhyme,
Cursed by a doom as old as Death,
As deep as Time;
Writ in some dull foreboding star,