The Test of the Sky

NOT to earth’s test — to thine, wide-arching sky,
Bright, ruthless sky, in whose thrice-limpid blue
The unseen currents, air and fire and dew,
Do purify themselves continually:
Even to thy test and judgment, all things come!
Sky of a thousand storms,
A million stars — thou heaven bent o’er all,
Limitless, fathomless, and inscrutable:

Laws, customs, creeds — the fabrics that men rear,
Unstayed, unglossed, must meet th’ accuser here ;
Full many a doctrine high in church or state, Hallowed by usage, fair of outward guise, —
Systems whose fragments still beguile the wise
Or gird the sumptuous dwellings of the great, —
Laid bare to wind and sun
All crumbling show, worm-cankered and undone.
But wisdom shines more clear,
Truth ever whiter; naught has love to fear,
Nor unstained faith, from yon broad glances sent
Down the blue gulf and dazzling firmament.

Thy face we seek — we, too, thou searching sky,
In whose dread vault and glacial-bright abyss
Winged currents bind the unseen world to this ;
Whose life renews earth’s life perpetually:
Not to men’s courts — to thine, we also come!
Still to the desert lone
We steal apart, or mountain waste and high,
And wait the solemn verdict of the sky.