Nothing in life has been made by man for man's using

But it was shown long since to man in ages

Lost as the name of the maker of it,

Who received oppression and shame for his wages--

Hate, avoidance, and scorn in his daily dealings--

Until he perished, wholly confounded

More to be pitied than he are the wise

Souls which foresaw the evil of loosing

Knowledge or Art before time, and aborted

Noble devices and deep-wrought healings,

Lest offence should arise.

Heaven delivers on earth the Hour that cannot be

thwarted,

Neither advanced, at the price of a world nor a soul,

and its Prophet

Comes through the blood of the vanguards who

dreamed--too soon--it had sounded.