Maybe I’ll feel the need to put these into proper Shakespearean order at some point. Maybe everything ever deserves more than two sonnets. For now:
Seamus Takes an Astronomy Course Part 1: The Beginning
From blind eternities bloom’d fire, light, dust,
In clouds of which torrential dawning birth
Did shake the waking seconds, therein must
Have risen the infinities of Earth.
Each blade of Man’s own craft was forg’d before,
And every bit of silver that his guile
Did rend from bloody soil was score on score
First render’d ‘fore the mountains mile on mile.
Though these days now are seen in brighter hues
Than those that were when eyes and days were none,
Again will come those days-sans-days when muse
Of fire, of light, of dust is iron, is dun.
When all that woke before it yet could wake
Seeks sleep again, will any live to quake?
Seamus Takes an Astronomy Course Part 2: The End
The last that stood in drownèd catacombs,
Or those that watch, long from their home remov’d,
Beneath what might have been celestial domes
That our grandfathers once espied and prov’d,
Will find themselves each witnesses, and each
Will think themselves accursèd, staring there,
Will think of ancient savages and preach
That we’d been better knowing not their care.
Yet here, a beast, I look ahead, the end
Unreal to me and all, I’d think, who know
Just when it can be known, and attend
The dawn and dusk with eyes set on their glow.
Were we yet shiv’ring in the world’s first light,
We’d still long for that wisdom lost to night.