Shakespeare
Others abide our question. Thou
art free.
We ask and ask - Thou smilest and art still,
Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest
hill,
Who to the stars uncrowns his majesty,
Planting his steadfast footsteps in the
sea,
Making the heaven of heavens his
dwelling-place,
Spares but the cloudy border of his base
To the foiled searching of mortality;
And thou, who didst the stars and sunbeams
know,
Self-schooled, self-scanned, self-honoured,
self-secure,
Didst tread on earth unguessed at - better so!
All pains the immortal spirit must endure,
All weakness which impairs, all griefs which bow,
Find their sole speech in that victorious brow.
