A Spirit Passed Before Me. Lord Byron
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!"