XXX.
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Is your wisdom very wise,Mother, on the narrow earth,Very happy, very worthThat I should stay to learn?Are these air-corrupting sighsFashioned by unlearned breath?Do the students' lamps that burnAll night, illumine death?Mother, albeit this be so,Loose thy prayer and let me goWhere that bright chief angel standsApart from all his brother bands,Too glad for smiling, having bentIn angelic wildermentO'er the depths of God, and broughtReeling thence one only thoughtTo fill his own eternity.He the teacher is for me--He can teach what I would know--Mother, mother, let me go!
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