Chapter XXII

And when the god speaks, when potential force
Springs into actual, as the bud to flower,
And, like a storm-fed stream along its course,
Rush the first promptings of creative power;

When from mere man we grow to maker, bard,
Sage, prophet, scholar, artist; scale the heights;
Assume the sceptre; drink the whole unmarred,
Completed draught of richest life’s delights;

When we control and rule, inspire and lead,
Mould laws for men, bid empires feel our sway,
Probe nature’s secrets, wrest them to our need,
Live glorious years in one heroic day—

This full fruition of our human lot
Wilt thou for evermore inherit not?