IX
And onward and out soars his song on its journey sublime,
'Mid systems that vanish or live in the lilt of his rhyme;
And through making and marring of races, and worlds, still he sings
One theme, that o'er all and through all his wild music outrings—
X
This one theme: that whate'er be the fate that has hurt us or joyed;
Whatever the face that is turned to us out of the void;
Be it cursing or blessing; or night, or the light of the sun;
Be it ill, be it good; be it life, be it death, it is One;—
XI
One thought, and one law, and one awful and infinite power;
In atom, and world; in the bursting of fruit and of flower;
The laughter of children, and roar of the lion untamed;
And the stars in their courses—one name that can never be named.
XII
But sudden a silence has fallen, the music has fled;
Tho' he leans with his hand on his harp, now indeed he is dead;
But the swan-song he sang shall for ever and ever abide
In the heart of the world, with the winds and the murmuring tide.
