Truth is a golden thread, seen here and there 
In small bright specks upon the visible side 
Of our strange being's parti-coloured web. 
How rich the universe! 'Tis a vein of ore 
Emerging now and then on Earth's rude breast, 
But flowing full below. Like islands set 
At distant intervals on Ocean's face, 
We see it on our course; but in the depths 
The mystic colonnade unbroken keeps 
Its faithful way, invisible but sure. 
Oh, if it be so, wherefore do we men 
Pass by so many marks, so little heeding?