Etching in truth and beauty's grace,
Beyond compare of antique vase,
On fronting hills the other's face.
Nor shoreless deeps of space debar
Blazon on earth of records far,
In greening orb or burning star.
IV.
I said: Coined for exchange in mart
Of purblind men with leaden heart,
This word Oblivion on life's chart!
Deft science' balance now prevails—
This simulacrum in the scales,
The verdict to the counter nails.
V.
And then, distraught by onward sweep
Of meditation long and deep,
I sought me out a place to weep—
O soul, may not thy leaves, I mused,
Stirred by death's shock through all diffused,
Reveal thy story unconfused,
Clear traced by thought's all-subtle beam—
A quickened palimpsest agleam,
Re-orient out of dusk and dream!