Never once forgetting—wasted not with burning.
On and on, unceasing, move the constellations,
Lessening nor increasing since the birth of nations:
Sun and moon unfailing keep their times and seasons,—
But man, unavailing, pleads to thee for reasons.
Why the great dumb mountains, why the ocean hoary—
Even the babbling fountains, older are than story,
And his life's duration's but a few short marches
Of the constellations through the heavenly arches!
Even the oaks of Mamre, and the palms of Kedar,