The Smile of All-Wisdom

SEEKING the Smile of All- Wisdom, one wandered afar,
(He that first fashioned the Sphinx, in the dusk of the past) :
Looked on the faces of sages, of heroes of war ;
Looked on the lips of the lords of the uttermost star,
Magi, and kings of the earth — nor had found it at last,

Save for the word of a slave, hoary-headed and weak,
Trembling, that clung to the hem of his garment, and said,
" Master, the least of your servants has found what you seek :
(Pardon, O Master, if all without wisdom I speak !)
Sculpture the smile of your Sphinx from the lips of the Dead!

Rising, he followed the slave to a hovel anear ;
Lifted the mat from the doorway, and looked on the bed.
" Nay, thou hast spoken aright, thou hast nothing to fear :
That which I sought thou hast found, Friend; for lo, it is here ! —
Surely the Smile of the Sphinx is the Smile of the Dead!"

Aye, on the stone lips of old, on the clay of to-day,
Tranquil, inscrutable, sweet with a quiet disdain,
Lingers the Smile of All- Wisdom, still seeming to say,
" Fret not, O Friend, at the turmoil — it passeth away;
Waste not the Now in the search of a Then that is vain :

' ' Hushed in the infinite dusk at the end shall ye be,
Feverish, questioning spirits that travail and yearn,
Quenched in the fulness of knowledge and peaceful as we:
Lo, we have lifted the Veil — there was nothing to see!
Lo, we have looked on the Scroll — there was nothing to learn!"