RALPH WALDO EMERSON

And the treason, too long pent,

To his ears was evident.

The young deities discussed

Laws of form, and metre just,

Orb, quintessence, and sunbeams,

What subsisteth, and what seems.

One, with low tones that decide,

And doubt and reverend use defied,

With a look that solved the sphere,

And stirr'd the devils everywhere,

Gave his sentiment divine

Against the being of a line.

1 Line in nature is not found ;

Unit and universe are round ;

In vain produced, all rays return ;

Evil will bless, and ice will burn.'

As Uriel spoke with piercing eye,

A shudder ran around the sky ;

The stern old war-gods shook their heads ;

The seraphs frown'd from myrtle-beds j

Seem'd to the holy festival

The rash word boded ill to all;

The balance-beam of Fate was bent ;

The bounds of good and ill were rent;

Strong Hades could not keep his own,

But all slid to confusion.

A sad self-knowledge withering fell On the beauty of Uriel ; In heaven once eminent, the god Withdrew that hour into his cloud ; Whether doom'd to long gyration In the sea of generation,

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