Classic Poem

7.

" Mine is the shadow, mine the throne, "
The Wanderer cried; " I therefore dare
The shadow of the throne;
For I am He who sits thereon,
In spirit, everywhere;
God! I am God! the all-adored!
The many-nam'd! the only Lord!
Incarnate oft' in human form;
Permitting fear to worship love,
On altar-stone, in hallow'd grove,
And proud to bless the meanest worm,
Though thron'd o'er earth, and sea, and sky;
My chariot Light; my torch-stand Night;
My sceptre Life; my falchion Pain;
With dateless Thought for my domain,
And Darkness for my canopy. "

8.

Beneath the globe of restless flame,
Indignant features went and came;
The pale brow blacken'd; the fierce eye,
Gathering its thunder gloomily,
Flash'd curses. Then, a voice austere,
In accents mix'd of scorn and fear,
Said, " Well, Sir God! what would'st thou here? "