When I am very old, yon shimmering doom
Comes drawing down and down, till all things end?”
Then with a wizen smirk he proudly felt
No other mote of God had ever gained
Such giant grasp of universal truth.
One was a transcendental monad; thin
And long and slim of mind; and thus he mused:
“Oh, vast, unfathomable monad-souls!
Made in the image”—a horse frog croaks from the pool,
“Hark! ’twas some god, voicing his glorious thought