I know that he is there as I am here,
By the same proof, which seems no proof at all,
It so exceeds familiar forms of proof.
Why "there," not "here"? Because, when I say "there"
I treat the feeling with distincter shape
That space exists between us: I,—not he,—
Live, think, do human work here—no machine,
His will moves, but a being by myself,
His, and not he who made me for a work,
Watches my working, judges its effect,