Not to this man, but Man,— Universe in a span; Point Of the spheres conjoint;
In whom eternally Thou, Light, dost focus Thee!— Didst pave The way o' the wave,
Rivet with stars the Heaven, For causeways to Thy driven Car In its coming far
Unto him, only him; In Thy deific whim Didst bound Thy works' great round
In this small ring of flesh; The sky's gold-knotted mesh Thy wrist Did only twist
To take him in that net.— Man! swinging-wicket set Between The Unseen and Seen,
Lo, God's two worlds immense, Of spirit and of sense, Wed In this narrow bed;
Yea, and the midge's hymn Answers the seraphim Athwart Thy body's court!
Great arm-fellow of God! To the ancestral clod Kin, And to cherubin;
Bread predilectedly O' the worm and Deity! Hark, O God's clay-sealed Ark,