Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By Theodore DwightWoolsey125 The Eclipse of Faith
T
Of the early world have fled,
And all the life of earth and skies,
Of streams and seas, is dead.
The dread Chimæra now
Is but a mild innocuous flame
Upon a mountain’s brow,
Around whose warmth its strawberry red
The arbutus hangs and goatherds tread.
The Sirens now no more
Entice the song-struck mariner
To give his voyage o’er.
The sailor past Messina hies,
And scorns the den where Scylla lies.
In battle’s hottest press,
Nor shine the wind-tost waves between
To seamen in distress.
That looked towards Helicon,
And for its living thought divine
Raised up a mountain throne.
In this new realm of thought?
Or has the shaft Primeval Truth
And Truth’s great Author sought?
We measure and we weigh,
We break and join, make rare and dense,
And reason God away.
And searched the stars, and find
All curious facts and laws revealed,
But not Almighty mind.
And shape earth’s wondrous frame:
If God had slept a million years,
All things would be the same.
Something to love and trust,
Something to quench my inward strife
And lift me from the dust.
Mid laws and causes blind;
Powerless on earth, or overhead,
To trace the all-guiding mind;
That time and space unlock,
That snatch from heaven its mysteries,
Its fear from the earthquake shock.
That feels its God afar,
Than reason, to his praises mute,
Talking with every star.
That swarmed in Greece of yore,
Than thought that scorns all mysteries
And dares all depths to explore.
Than manhood’s daring scorn;
The fear that creeps along the dust
Than doubt in hearts forlorn.
If such be reason’s day,
I ’ll lose the pearl without a tear,
And grope my star-lit way.
If such the meed we earn;
If freezing pride and doubt are nurst,
And faith forbid to burn.