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And, since their date, my Soul hath undergone
Change manifold, for better, or for worse:
Yet cease I not to struggle, and to aspire
Heavenward; and chide the part of me that flags,
Through sinful choice; or dread necessity,
On human Nature, from above, imposed.
'Tis, by comparison, an easy task
Earth to despise; but to converse with Heaven,
This is not easy:—to relinquish all
We have, or hope, of happiness and joy,—
And stand in freedom loosened from this world;
I deem not arduous:—but must needs confess
That 'tis a thing impossible to frame
Conceptions equal to the Soul's desires;
And the most difficult of tasks to keep
Heights which the Soul is competent to gain.
—Man is of dust: etherial Hopes are his,
Which, when they should sustain themselves aloft,
Want due consistence; like a Pillar of smoke,
That with majestic energy from earth
Rises; but, having reached the thinner air,
Melts, and dissolves, and is no longer seen.
From this infirmity of mortal kind
