Greatness

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That man is truly great, and he alone
 Who venerates, of present things or past
The absolute only,—is the liege of none
 Save God and truth; who, awed not by this vast
 And shadowy scheme of life, but anchored fast
In love, and sitting central like the sun,
So gives his mental beams to pierce and run
 Through all its secrets while his days may last.
While thus progressive, little faith has he
 For mysteries, till, sounding them, he hear
The gathered tones of their stirred depths agree
 With that religious harmony severe,
 Which ever anthems to his spirit’s ear
The hallowing presence of the Deity.

© Charles Harpur