Shall that impeach their operations?
Carvers of the eternal channels,
Levelers of the hills,
Jubilantly tossing sun-jewels in their hands ;
Bearing poppy wreaths and chaplets of wheat to the
goddesses aw^aiting in the meadows. Because sailors sink in the deep And throw up vain arms unto the void. Shall the moving battlements of the sea be fixed? Or the winds sleep forever? Because we lift our frightened hands Unto a mocking sky, shall the earth cease from her
travail or the chariots of the stars be stayed? Continually Nature drapes her wrecks with beauty, And out of destruction brings new life, But the wrecks of Man are cherished by him. He preserves studiously his errors. Continually he renews disease. He will not hearken to the voice of his mother.
TRUTH: He has weighed the stars. Caught the lightning in its course. Peered like a curious child into his own cradle. But never yet has he controlled the eternal conditions. These are beyond him forever, yet he will not recognize
them. He will not swim with the benevolent current. But hobbles like a blind man After the fatal falsities of Nineveh and Babylon. He does not understand that though he may not control
Nature's conditions. He may surrender himself to their harmony ; As the willow-leaf, in September, floats happily On the force of the river. Never has he understood Freedom, Nor dug to the root of Evil,
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