“And as the seed waits eagerly watching for its flower and fruit.
Anxious its little soul looks out into the clear expanse
To see if hungry winds are abroad with their invisible array ;
So Man looks out in tree, and herb, and fish, and bird, and beast.
Collecting up the scattered portions of his immortal body.
Into the elemental forms of everything that grows.
He tries the sullen North wind, riding on its angry furrows,
The sultry South when the sun rises, and the angry East,
When the sun sets, and the clods harden, and the cattle stand,
Drooping, and the birds hide in their silent nests.
He stores his thoughts.
As in store-houses in his memory. He regulates the forms.
Of all beneath and all above, and in the gentle West Reposes where the sun’s heat dwells.
He rises to the sun,
And to the planets of the night, and to the stars that gild.
The zodiacs, and the stars that sullen stand to North and South,
He touches the remotest pole, and in the centre weeps That Man should labour and sorrow, and learn and forget, and return.
To the dark valley whence he came, and begin his