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