'Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way, sixty thousand years have gone.'--Garrett P. Serviss.

Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way
    Full sixty thousand years have gone,
Yet hour by hour, and day by day,
    This tireless star speeds on and on.

Methinks he must be moved to mirth
    By that droll tale of Genesis,
Which says creation had its birth
    For such a puny world as this.

To hear how One who fashioned all
    Those Solar Systems, tier on tiers,
Expressed in little Adam's fall
    The purpose of a million spheres.

And, witness of the endless plan,
    To splendid wrath he must be wrought
By pigmy creeds presumptuous man
    Sends forth as God's primeval thought.

Perchance from half a hundred stars
    He hears as many curious things;
From Venus, Jupiter and Mars,
    And Saturn with the beauteous rings,

There may be students of the Cause
    Who send their revelations out,
And formulate their codes of laws,
    With heavens for faith and hells for doubt.

On planets old ere form or place
    Was lent to earth, may dwell--who knows--
A God-like and perfected race
    That hails great Sirius as he goes.

In zones that circle moon and sun,
    'Twixt world and world, he may see souls
Whose span of earthly life is done,
    Still journeying up to higher goals.

And on dead planets gray and cold
    Grim spectral souls, that harboured hate
Life after life, he may behold
    Descending to a darker fate.

And on his grand majestic course
    He may have caught one glorious sight
Of that vast shining central Source
    From which proceeds all Life, all Light.

Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way
    Full sixty thousand years have gone,
No mortal man may bid him stay,
    No mortal man may speed him on.

No mortal mind may comprehend
    What is beyond, what was before;
To God be glory without end,
    Let man be humble and adore.

Poems of Progress and New Thought Pastels by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
London: Gay & Hancock, 1911.

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