One is the race of men, and one the race of Gods; but they
And we alike are children of the same Earth-mother’s womb.
Yet some Power wholly diverse sunders us: we fade away
To nought, but evermore abides their heaven’s brazen dome,
Through all the years, the eternal years, their never-shaken home.
Yet have we something in us like the Gods, the everlasting—
It may be this our mighty mind, our nature it may be—
Yet know we not what course by day, or ’neath night’s wings on-hasting
Is marked out, for our feet to run therein, by Destiny.