Prometheus Bound (Browning, 1833)/The Image of God

THE IMAGE OF GOD.



Thou! art thou like to God?
(I ask'd this question of the glorious sun)
Thou high unwearied one,
Whose course in heat, and light, and life is run?

Eagles may view thy face—clouds can assuage
Thy fiery wrath—the sage
Can mete thy stature—thou shalt fade with age.
Thou art not like to God.

Thou! art thou like to God?
(I ask'd this question of the bounteous earth)
Oh thou, who givest birth
To forms of beauty and to sounds of mirth?

In all thy glory lurks the worm decay—
Thy golden harvests stay
Tor seed and toil—thy power shall pass away.
Thou art not like to God.

Thou! art thou like to God?
(I ask'd this question of my deathless soul)
Oh thou, whose musings roll
Above the thunder, o'er creation's whole?

Thou art not. Sin, and shame, and agony
Within thy deepness lie:
They utter forth their voice in thee, and cry
'Thou art not like to God.'

Then art Thou like to God;
Thou, who didst bear the sin, and shame, and woe—
Oh Thou, whose sweat did flow—
Whose tears did gush—whose brow was dead and low?

No grief is like thy grief; no heart can prove
Love like unto thy love;
And none, save only Thou,—below, above,—
Oh God, is like to God!