My pathos soon thy laughter would awake
Hadst thou the laughing mood not long forsworn
Of suns and worlds I have nothing to say
I see alone mankind's self-torturing pains
The little world-god the self-same stamp retains
And is as wondrous now as on the primal day
Better he might have fared, poor wight
Hadst thou not given him a gleam of heav'nly light