English

Remember still there's a resource for thee:
If thou'rt a mystery to thyself, to all;
Still to thy God thou art no mystery: —
Yes, He, without whose care there doth not fall
A sparrow to the ground, however small;
Howe'er profound, how utterless soe'er
Thy griefs, if thou on him with faith wilt call,
Can bring a sure relief to thy despair;
And raise elysian blooms where all seemed bleak and bare.

If thou have sensibility, a heart
Impatient of th' imperfect joys of earth;
If thou have vainly sought to play thy part,
For blessings deemed here of most reverend worth;
And if, like bubbles, thou have found their birth
But harbinger'd their doom; how soon the stream
Exhausted, which from this world gushes forth;
If thou have found that joys from earth which teem,
When once their taste is o'er, are joys but in a dream.

No accidents of chance can hinder this;
No possibilities of fate evade;
Cease then the vain complaint of scanty bliss
Attending human sympathy! By aid
Of true philosophy is soon displayed
Its impotence to satisfy the soul
A thirst for living waters. Disarrayed
Be man then of the captivating dole,
Falsely to him ascribed, man's comfort to controul!

Though man be finite, still his wishes are
Indefinite, if not infinite: tell me then,
Is there not an insuperable bar,
'Twixt finite beings rendering back again
T' each other all they wish? As we are men
We're with pure reason gifted. This doth tend
To th' infinite. However we may strain
All possibilities, when man doth blend
With man, an aching void that union will attend.

No, he who made the heart, can only know
Its wants; he only who is infinite
Can e'er appease th' unutterable throe,
With which the soul doth pant for pure delight:
He who while he doth perfectly requite
That individual wish, can do as much,
As for that individual, by his might,
For every one whose heart doth own the touch
Of grace, which leads it still from heaven its all to snatch.

In such a case a mutual aid is given; —
One moral being of two counterparts
Is formed; and thus each brings a leaven
Whence each to t'other's scantiness imparts.
But e'en in this, best tie of human hearts,
Those imperfections which are still the bane
Of all that is of man, with poisonous arts,
Will interfere: no plant of earthly strain
Did e'er yet grow mature, unblemished with a stain.

Besides — but that 'tis foreign to our theme —
It were not difficult the fact to prove
That those most sympathy enjoy, whose stream
Of thought, like twy-born founts, diversely move.
We, those that are our opposites, most love;
Where we're deficient, those who most abound;
Those who're deficient where we soar above
The common standard; if with candour crowned,
And mutual comprehensiveness such tie be found.

Now since two bodies never were the same,
To seek two minds alike, vain is the quest:
Alleviation is what we should claim,
A soothing of the ills which life molest
From human sympathy; but he whose breast
Is fired with notion that he may discern
Being through whom he may be wholly blest,
Seeking for that which cannot be, will earn
Nought but conviction sad how idly he did yearn.

To make this clear. If we but once allow
(As most in present times admit) there dwells
'Twixt such and such a temperament (though how
Causation here doth operate quite repels
Man's finite guest) yet if the fact compels
Our credence, that a given cast of mind,
A given symmetry of form foretels,
Then must we grant, that, if two forms enshrined
Two kindred souls, they were to kindred forms assigned.

It is, in short, to wish a second self,
Yet not a second self to find: it is
The wish to find another, whom some elf,
Versed in fantastic metamorphosis,
Hath made so like us, that in him we miss
Nought save entire identity. How fond
Is it on such a dream to found our bliss!
He who the finite ne'er can go beyond,
Seeks happiness in vain, enthralled in error's bond!