Page:The Happy Marriage and Other Poems.pdf/50

 Of cloven feet on hollow ground,— And after by the friendly stove Sit peacefully and sup of love.

No doubt he'd once had eyes to see Through mill-stones to the mystery That mill-stones might perhaps intend If there were Ends beyond the end— But now he had no plague of eyes.

There was a way of being wise That was not wisdom: one might love Too loftily and fall above As well as one might fall below.

And there were things a man might know That were not knowledge either. Truth For instance.