Lord Byron

poems:

21

a spirit passed before me

A spirit passed before me: I beheld the face of immortality unveiled -- deep sleep came down on every eye save mine -- and there it stood, - all formless - but divine: Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake; And as my damp hair stiffened, thus it spake: "Is man more just than God? Is man more pure than He who deems even Seraphs insecure? Creatures of clay - vain dwellers in the dust! The moth survives you, and are ye more just? Things of a day! you wither ere the night, heedless and blind to Wisdom's wasted light!"

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