Each A Space
Old things need not be therefore true,
O brother men, nor yet the new;
Ah ! still awhile the old thought retain,
And yet consider it again !
The souls of now two thousand years
Have laid up here their toils and fears,
And all the earnings of their pain, —
Ah, yet consider it again !
We ! what do we see ? each a space
Of some few yards before his face;
Does that the whole wide plan explain ?
Ah, yet consider it again !
Alas ! the great world goes its way,
And takes its truth from each new day;
They do not quit, nor can retain,
Far less consider it again.
Arthur Hugh Clough : Ah, Yet Consider It Again !
