Nature

NOT altogether cruel I,
Who weave the sunbeams through the air,
I paint the many-tinted sky
And curl a baby's hair.

I teach the field mouse how to gnaw,
I tell the wind what song to sing,
I form the alligator's jaw,
And give the bee its sting.

I mould the beak of hawk and crow,
I roll the ocean in its cup,
I show the grass the way to grow,
And bid the oak-tree up.

The brain that made the kindly teat
At which the lion's whelp has hung,
The fount of kine has made as fit
For comfort of their young.

And if the lion's paw be strong,
Or tooth of tiger fierce to grind,
The antelope can leap along
Leaving their strength behind.

And from my varied'storehouse I
Antagonisms still must draw ;
I make the spider and the fly
And tell to each the law.

For one I weave a web to snare
And fashion limbs to clutch and slay ;
The other's wings can 'scape the lair
And seek afield its prey.

Ye moan that all your lives ye work,
Spending yourselves for petty doles ;
That charity dare scarcely lurk
Within your hungry souls ;

That in the frenzied fight for food
Ye dare not do a kindly deed ;
That I say harsh ye must be lewd,
And live and die by greed.

Ye curse me sore, and say I give
And take away what thing I gave ;
Ye cry that ere ye've learned to live
Your feet are in the grave.

I nothing give ; myself I lend
To each one till his day is o'er ;
Then take again my loan, and spend
It through another door.

Still everything in balance true
Works on the lines primeval set,
The rabbit to the lion grew,
And man is growing yet.

For all ye do ye do to scale
By plan made ere your clay was new ;
And even when ye seem to fail,
I know the work is true.

Your love and hate, your peace and strife,
The little charities ye prize,
All further on the trend of life,
And help ye still to rise.

Be sure the life next on the rung
Will hold your sense in small repute,
And wonder could its wit have sprung
From such a foolish root.

And after them the long array
Will live and die in peace or strife,
Will laud the wisdom of their day,
And rail at me and life.

Of life and death ye sadly rave,
Tho' life and death are but the one,
For life is life e'en in the grave,
And death is life in pawn.

The why and wherefore, whence and where,
Are hid to you, are hid to me,
All blindly we ascend the stair
And bend the humble knee.

I sweat in labour just like man ;
What thing I do I blindly do ;
Obediently to higher plan,
I kiss the rod with you.

And I and Death and Time and You,
Will work together till the end
Has justified the work we do,
And nothing's left to mend.

Then life will be alive, and Time
Will mould you to your final shape,
And God will show you how to climb
To heaven through the ape.

Insurrections [1909]