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O restless thought
Contented not. With 'Why' distraught.
Whom asked you then your riddle small?--
'If hither came no man at all

'Through this grey-green, sea-haunted lane,
Would it mere blackened nought remain?
Strives it this beauty and life to express
Only in human consciousness?'

Oh, rather, idly breaks he in
To an Eden innocent of sin;
And, prouder than to be afraid.
Forgets his Maker in the made.