Poem by Charles Harpur

Greatness

That man is truly great, and he alone
       Who venerates, of present things or past
The absolute only,—is the liege of none
       Save God and truth; who, awed not by this vast
       And shadowy scheme of life, but anchored fast
In love, and sitting central like the sun,
So gives his mental beams to pierce and run
       Through all its secrets while his days may last.
While thus progressive, little faith has he
       For mysteries, till, sounding them, he hear
The gathered tones of their stirred depths agree
       With that religious harmony severe,
       Which ever anthems to his spirit’s ear
The hallowing presence of the Deity.

1. Wellington
2. Mary Arden
3. A Dream of the Orient
4. Downward, through the Blooming Roofage
5. Humanity

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