Shadows (Howe)/Proportion

PROPORTION
THERE rose a star above the hillAcross the bay;Through the night-spaces vast and stillShone the great ray;Beneath it glowed a lesser lightBy mortal lit,Yet through the dark a path as brightLed back to it.
Here in the day a bird flies by,Above the trees;On other vision bent, mine eyeUnheeding sees.Was it a distant eagle's wingThat clove the blue,Or some near insect harvestingThe honey's dew?
If eyes deceive, then let my soulSee clear and straight; Through all appearance, part and whole,Stand separate!Know, soul, what things are near, what far,Sift great from small;Seize, soul,—whate'er the visions are,—The truth in all.