Page:The Poems and Prose remains of Arthur Hugh Clough, volume 2 (1869).djvu/99

 Ah, not the Voice; 'tis but the cloud, The outer darkness dense, Where image none, nor e'er was seen Similitude of sense. 'Tis but the cloudy darkness dense That wrapt the Mount around; While in amaze the people stays, To hear the Coming Sound.

Is there no prophet-soul the while To dare, sublimely meek, Within the shroud of blackest cloud The Deity to seek? 'Midst atheistic systems dark, And darker hearts' despair, That soul has heard perchance His word, And on the dusky air His skirts, as passed He by, to see Hath strained on their behalf, Who on the plain, with dance amain, Adore the Golden Calf.

'Tis but the cloudy darkness dense; Though blank the tale it tells, No God, no Truth! yet He, in sooth, Is there—within it dwells; Within the sceptic darkness deep He dwells that none may see, Till idol forms and idol thoughts Have passed and ceased to be: No God, no Truth! ah though, in , So stand the doctrine's half: On Egypt's track return not back, Nor own the Golden Calf.