blessed
security
have I
found in
all
things,
that they
prefer—to
dance on
the feet
of chance.
O heaven
above me!
thou pure,
thou lofty
heaven!
This is
now thy
purity
unto me,
that there
is no
eternal
reason-spider
and
reason-cobweb:—
—That thou
art to me
a
dancing-floor
for divine
chances,
that thou
art to me
a table of
the Gods,
for divine
dice and
dice-players!—
But thou
blushest?
Have I
spoken
unspeakable
things?
Have I
abused,
when I
meant to
bless
