PROBLEMS

Man's are the learnings of his books —

What is all knowledge that he knows

Beside the wit of winding brooks,

The wisdom of the summer rose!

How soil distills the scent in flowers

Baffles his science: heaven-dyed,

How, from the palette of His hours,

God gives them colors, hath defied.

What dream of heaven begets the light?

Or, ere the stars beat burning tunes,

Stains all the hollow edge of night

With glory as of molten moons?

Who is it answers what is birth

Or death, that nothing may retard?

Or what is love, that seems of Earth,

Yet wears God's own divine regard?