Poems (Sharpless)/A Foolish Child

by Frances M. Sharpless

A FOOLISH CHILD

A merry, bright, and audacious boy
 Of our nineteenth century brood,
Was puzzling over a Japanese toy—
 A nest of boxes of wood.

And I said as he fitted them, one by one,
 "How neatly they're cut and how true!"
But he answered, "By man these were never done,
 They are wood, you see, and they grew."

"Do you think, my child, that no skilful hand
 Carved each close-fitting box and lid?
How then did they grow so compactly planned?"
 "I do not know how, but they did."

You smile? Is the logic then worse than his
 Who this wonderful world has scanned,
Where no dreams can compare with the marvel that is,
 Yet sees not the Maker's hand?

Science and knowledge have grasped at much,
 Yet, wisdom and love see clear
That the realm which lies beyond sight and touch
 Can alone solve the mysteries here.

So, knowing the two-fold life of man,
 And the hope that this life implies,
We smile when we hear the scientists' plan
 To explain what about us lies.

We thank him for all the truths he gives,
 But remember how much is still hid,
When he says, "From matter sprang all that lives;
 We do not know how, but it did."