As in our fields he spread around the dust,
Or sowed the atmosphere with might or light.
He knows; enough; the universe is his,
And we can only claim the present day.
Our crime is to be man and wish to know:
To serve and know not is our being’s law.
Byron, this truth is hard, and long I strove
Against it; but why turn away from truth?
With God, thy title is to be his work;
To feel, t’adore thy slavery divine;