Classic Poem

A youth there was who, burning with a thirst
For knowledge, to Egyptian Sais came
In hopes the wisdom of the Priests to learn.
Some grades his ready wit soon left behind,
But his inquiring spirit urged him on
Until the Priest could hardly satisfy
Th' inquirer's zeal. — " Why, what do I possess, "
Exclaimed the youth, " unless possessed of all?
Is there, then, here a greater and a less?
And are thy verities, as fancy bids,
Only a sum which, be it great or small,
May be obtained and utilised at will?
Are they not indivisible and one?
Take from a perfect harmony one tone,
Deprive the rainbow of a single tint,
And what remains is nothing, if there fail
Complete perfection in those notes and hues. "
And thus conversing, once they found themselves
Wandering into a sequestered fane,
Where to his wonderment the youth observed
An image deeply veiled, of giant size.
And turning to his guide: " What, " he demands,
" Does yonder veil beneath its folds conceal? "
" The Truth, " is the reply. — " What, " cried the boy,
" 'Tis nothing else but Truth that I pursue,
And must I find that just that Truth is veiled? "
" That with the Deity thou must arrange, "
Replied the Priest. " No mortal, 'tis ordained,
Shall lift this veil till I do so myself.
And he who with unconsecrated hand
Shall earlier the mystery expose,
He, saith the God " — " Well? " — " He shall see the Truth. "
" A strange oracular decree! and thou,
Hast thou thyself the secret never probed? "
" I? No indeed! And have not even felt
So tempted. " — " That I can not understand.
If but this veil divided me from Truth. " —
" And a command, my son, " struck in his guide.
" More weighty than perchance thou dost divine
Is this thin gauze — light truly to thine hand,
But on thy conscience hundred weights it loads. "
O'erwhelmed in thought, homeward the youth returned;
But the consuming eagerness to know
Robbed him of sleep, he tossed upon his couch,
And rose at midnight. — To the temple straight,
In spite of him, his faltering footsteps turned.
An easy task it was to scale the wall,
And with one leap the bold adventurer stands
Right in the inner precincts of the fane
Here he makes pause, and notices with awe
The lonely, lifeless silence which prevails,
Only disturbed by the re-echoing clang
Of his own footfall in the secret vault.
Above, athwart the breaches in the dome
The moon projects a pale and silvery ray.
And, awful as a very-present God,
Clear in the shadow of the arched recess
In its long shroud the image brightly gleams.
Anon advancing with uncertain stride,
He lifts his hand the holy thing to touch,
When hot and cold his bones alternate thrill,
And by an unseen arm he is repulsed.
" Unhappy man, what wouldst thou do? " So cries
Within his consciousness a warning voice.
" Wouldst thou presume the holiest to tempt?
No mortal, so the oracle declared,
Shall raise this veil till it is raised by me. "
" Thus spoke he, but did not the speaker add: —
" Whoever lifts this veil shall see the Truth?" "
" Be what there may behind, raise it I will. "
In rising tones he cries: — " I will behold! " " Behold! "
Thus does the mocking echo make reply.

The last is said: — and he has drawn the veil.
" Now, " ye will ask, " what object met his gaze? "
I know not. — Void of consciousness and pale,
So on the morrow was he prostrate found
By the attending Priests at Isis' feet.
Whate'er he saw, whatever then he learned
His lips have never told: but gone for aye
Was all the former gladness of his life,
And sorrow bore him to an early grave.
" Woe be to him, " his warning voice would say
When urgent questioners around him pressed,
" Woe be to him who seeks for Truth through sin!
For Truth so found no happiness will yield. "