44
FERISHTAH'S FANCIES.
Where's thy man-needed truth—its proof, nay print
Of faintest passage on the tablets traced
By man, termed knowledge? ’Tis conceded thee,
We lack such fancied union—fire with flesh:
But even so, to lack is not to gain
Our lack's suppliance: where's the trace of such
Recorded?"
"What if such a tracing were?
If some strange story stood,—whate'er its worth,—
That the immensely yearned-for, once befell,
—The sun was flesh once?—(keep the figure!)”
"How?
An union inconceivable was fact?"
Of faintest passage on the tablets traced
By man, termed knowledge? ’Tis conceded thee,
We lack such fancied union—fire with flesh:
But even so, to lack is not to gain
Our lack's suppliance: where's the trace of such
Recorded?"
"What if such a tracing were?
If some strange story stood,—whate'er its worth,—
That the immensely yearned-for, once befell,
—The sun was flesh once?—(keep the figure!)”
"How?
An union inconceivable was fact?"
"Son, if the stranger have convinced himself
Fancy is fact—the sun, besides a fire,
Fancy is fact—the sun, besides a fire,
