CosmosI Go search the ons an you will Where withered leaves of Doubt are whirled, And who hath solved this riddle, Life, Or Death that moves with sails unfurled, Beyond the straining eyes of man Marooned upon an unknown world. II Nor tongue hath told, nor vision caught That paradox. Primeval Cause; Each age has had some parable Each age succeeding marked the flaws; While shifted, with the calendar, What men have termed generic laws. III Creed after creed