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But she said: "Nay, nay; I began, I was born; although it may be indeed That not on the hills of the earth I sprang from the godhead's seed. And e'en as my birth and my waxing shall be my waning and end. But thou on many an errand, to many a field dost wend Where the bow at adventure bended, or the fleeing dastard's spear Oft lulleth the mirth of the mighty.
Slain it cannot be by Godhead, since it is still Godhead's own very dearest soul. But hidden, stifled, silenced it must be; or it will wreck the State and leave the Church defenseless. Not until it passes completely away from Godhead, and is reborn as the soul of the hero, can it work anything but the confusion and destruction of the existing order.
Wordsworth personifies it as the approval of Duty, "stern daughter of the voice of God:" "Stern Lawgiver! Yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we anything more fair Than is the smile upon thy face." The faithful child of duty, whatever his creed, whatever his temperament, is naturally the possessor of a steady, calm assurance. Somehow, he feels, it is well.
O Wood-Sun, thou hast borne me, and I were fain indeed To give thee back thy gladness; but thou com'st of the Godhead's seed, And herein my might avails not; because I can but show Unto these wedded sorrows the truth that the heart should know Ere the will hath wielded the hand; and for thee, I can tell thee nought That thou hast not known this long while; thy will and thine hand have wrought, And the man that thou lovest shall live in despite of Gods and of men, If yet thy will endureth.
"Stern lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face; Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the Stars from wrong; And the most ancient Heavens, through thee, are fresh and strong. WORDSWORTH: Ode to Duty. When Dorothea had seen Mr.
But when o'er all these matters in his soul he had marvelled amain, Then into the wide cave went he, and Calypso, Godhead's Grace, Failed nowise there to know him as she looked upon his face; For never unknown to each other are the Deathless Gods, though they Apart from one another may be dwelling far away.
ZEUS. What! art thou doubting still Whether my might is lent me by the gods And not god-born? The gods, my Semele, In charity oft lend their strength to man; Ne'er do the deities their terrors lend Death and destruction is the godhead's seal Bearer of death to thee were Zeus unveiled! Thunder, fire, smoke, and earthquake. SEMELE. Withdraw, withdraw thy hand! Oh, mercy, mercy, For the poor nation!
This law is none other than that holy form which a modern poet thus apostrophizes: Stern lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face. Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through thee, are fresh and strong.
Lo! from the holy Asian dwelling-place, Fall for a godhead's wrongs, the mortals' murmuring tears, They mourn within the Colchian land, The virgin and the warrior daughters, And far remote, the Scythian band, Around the broad Maeotian waters, And they who hold in Caucasus their tower, Arabia's martial flower Hoarse-clamouring 'midst sharp rows of barbed spears.
Stern lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the Stars from wrong; And the most ancient Heavens, through thee, are fresh and strong. Ode to Duty.
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