And who is He that sculptured in huge stone,
Sitteth a giant, where no works arrive
Of straining Art, and hath so prompt and live
The lips, I listen to their very tone?
Moses is He—Ay, that, makes clearly known
The chin’s thick boast, and brow’s prerogative
Of double ray: so did the mountain give
Back to the world that visage, God was grown
Great part of! Such was he when he suspended
Round him the sounding and vast waters; such
When he shut sea on sea o’er Mizraïm.
And ye, his hordes, a vile calf raised, and bended
The knee? This Image had ye raised, not much
Had been your error in adoring Him.
From Zappi, R. B. (Given to Ba “for love’s sake,” Siena. Sept. 27, ’50.)