Who for a good he knows not sighs? Who can an unknown end pursue? How find? How e’en when haply found Hail that strange form he never knew? Or is it that man’s inmost soul Once knew each part and knew the whole?

Now, though by fleshly vapours dimmed, Not all forgot her visions past; For while the several parts are lost, To the one whole she cleaveth fast; Whence he who yearns the truth to find Is neither sound of sight nor blind.

For neither does he know in full, Nor is he reft of knowledge quite; But, holding still to what is left, He gropes in the uncertain light, And by the part that still survives To win back all he bravely strives.