By an eterne volution, oversweep
The heights of wisdom, and invade her depths:
So, knowing all things, should we have all power;
For is not knowledge power? But mighty spells
Our operation sear: the Babel must,
Or ere it touch the sky, fall down to earth:
The web, half form'd, must tumble from our hands,
And, ere they can resume it, lie decay'd.
Mind struggles vainly from the flesh. E'en so,
Hell's angel (saith a scroll apocryphal)
Shall, when the latter days of earth have shrunk
Before the blast of God, affect his heav'n;
Lift his scarr'd brow, confirm his rebel heart,
Shoot his strong wings, and darken pole and pole,—
Till day be blotted into night; and shake
The fever'd clouds, as if a thousand storms
Throbb'd into life! Vain hope—vain strength—vain flight!
God's arm shall meet God's foe, and hurl him back!