More than creation labours!—Labours more?
And is there in creation, what, amidst
This tumult universal, wing'd despatch,
And ardent energy, supinely yawns?—
Man sleeps; and Man alone; and Man whose fate,
Fate irreversible, entire, extreme,
Endless, hair-hung, breeze-shaken, o'er the gulf
A moment trembles; drops! and Man for whom
All else is in alarm! Man, the sole cause
Of this surrounding storm! and yet he sleeps,