Page:The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table (1858) Holmes.djvu/233

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THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST-TABLE.
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Its living marbles jointed strongWith glistening band and silvery thong,And linked to reason's guiding reinsBy myriad rings in trembling chains,Each graven with the threaded zoneWhich claims it as the master's own.
See how yon beam of seeming whiteIs braided out of seven-hued light,Yet in those lucid globes no rayBy any chance shall break astray.Hark how the rolling surge of sound,Arches and spirals circling round,Wakes the hushed spirit through thine earWith music it is heaven to hear.
Then mark the cloven sphere that holdsAll thought in its mysterious folds,That feels sensation's faintest thrillAnd flashes forth the sovereign will;Think on the stormy world that dwellsLocked in its dim and clustering cells!The lightning gleams of power it shedsAlong its hollow glassy threads!
O Father! grant thy love divineTo make these mystic temples thine!When wasting age and wearying strifeHave sapped the leaning walls of life,When darkness gathers over all,And the last tottering pillars fall,Take the poor dust thy mercy warmsAnd mould it into heavenly forms!
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