And knows its aim and fails not itself at a pinch.

It is here in the world and works,
Not done with yet.--Up, then, let the test be tried!
Dare your uttermost, be
Completely, and of your own, like him, be justified.



NUMBERS

Trefoil and Quatrefoil!
What shaped those destinied small silent leaves
Or numbered them under the soil?
I lift my dazzled sight
From grass to sky,
From humming and hot perfume
To scorching, quivering light,
Empty blue!--Why,
As I bury my face afresh
In a sunshot vivid gloom--
Minute infinity's mesh,
Where spearing side by side
Smooth stalk and furred uplift
Their luminous green secrets from the grass,
Tower to a bud and delicately divide--
Do I think of the things unthought
Before man was?

Bodiless Numbers!