Cosmos

Zusatztext

I Go search the æons an you will Where withered leaves of Doubt are whirled, And who hath solved this riddle, Life, Or Death that moves with sails unfurled, Beyond the straining eyes of man Marooned upon an unknown world. II Nor tongue hath told, nor vision caught That paradox. Primeval Cause; Each age has had some parable Each age succeeding marked the flaws; While shifted, with the calendar, What men have termed generic laws. III Creed after creed behold them now Like Etna on Vesuvius piled; Till, scaled to earth by drifting sands They lie in later days reviled, And pushed aside by Time's rough hand As toys are, by a peevish child.

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