The insect bursting from its tome-like bed--
The grain that in a thousand grains revives--
The trees that seem in wintry torpor dead--
Yet each new year renewing their green lives;
All teach, without the added aid of Faith,
That life still triumphs o'er apparent death!
But dies the insect when the summer dies;
The grain hath perished, though the plant remain;
In death, at last, the oak of ages lies;
Here Reason halts, nor further can attain,
For Reason argues but from what she sees,
Nor traces to their goal these mysteries.
But Faith the dark hiatus can supply--
Teaching, eternal progress still shall reign;
Telling (as these things aid her to espy)
In higher worlds that higher laws obtain;
Pointing, with radiant finger raised on high,
From life that still revives, to life that cannot die.
