A BIT OF ROCK 



By GEORGE WILLIAM BETTANY 



A bit of rock ! I break it from the cliff 



Where once the marl was quarried. Shall I fling 



With careless hand th' unvalued fragment down 



Into the pool below? — A piece of clay? 



A sandstone ? Or a limestone ? Or a marl ? — 



I'll ask it with an acid what it is. 



So for a space the sentient mind decrees 



The fate of matter, till the time shall come 



When senseless matter seals the fate of mind. 



Ah! lauded Mind, how much art thou deceiv'd! 



This rocky shard bore on its weather'd face 



A gem of which I knew not ; else had I 



A better casket found wherein to lay 



Its beauty softly. So I reach my home 



Convinc'd I bring— a bit of rock : no more. 



And now, behold, my hammer breaks it down 



Almost to powder; and an acid now, 



Of greater force to cleave the cloven dust 



Than any force mechanic, eats its way 



Where sight may never follow, rends apart 



The long-lock'd atoms, slits the bond that ties 



A spirit in the rock, whose egress now 



The thinking mind with wonder may behold. 



At length the stone has yielded me its name 

 And all its secrets. Stay— not all. I fain 

 Would arm my sight with microscopic power 

 To view the structure of th' unalter'd rock 

 Wherein the spirit houses. So I search 

 Among the remnants which the hammer spared, 

 And take the largest piece, a slab whose side 

 Outmeasures not a barleycorn. With care 

 I set it on the stage and throw a light 

 Athwart its mass, and lower down the lens. 



39 



