The dark shield of the moment
Obscures the corridors of time
And mortal eye against the mist
That hides the future cannot prevail.
But wisdom in its many guises
Can make from thought on what is past
A knife to venture through the veil
And guess the shape in which time's cast.
Though often false! these weak impressions
Are all that serve to make a Man
Rise above the moment's strife
From beast to spirit's threefold life.
Past, present, future: all unite
To make the now a thing of light
Instead of blindness.
Let me sing, then on a vision
Of a future's dark design.