Memorandum
25
In multitudes we grope; our blurred events
Were argued by assembled generations.
Time toils in centuries and by continents
While racial memories haunt the souls of nations.
Enormous murmurings from the mind of man
Accumulate as history; and from void
Obliquities of ignorance which began
His growth, blind hordes have laboured and destroyed.
If there should be some Power ensphered in light
Who contemplates his handiwork, supreme
In differentiating wrong from right, —
To him all human consciousness might seem
A Sleeper, powerless in imprisoning night
To waken from a purgatorial dream.
In multitudes we grope; our blurred events
Were argued by assembled generations.
Time toils in centuries and by continents
While racial memories haunt the souls of nations.
Enormous murmurings from the mind of man
Accumulate as history; and from void
Obliquities of ignorance which began
His growth, blind hordes have laboured and destroyed.
If there should be some Power ensphered in light
Who contemplates his handiwork, supreme
In differentiating wrong from right, —
To him all human consciousness might seem
A Sleeper, powerless in imprisoning night
To waken from a purgatorial dream.
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