ALL the heat, as they float over earth, of infectious stars, Hatching tyrannies, plots, rebellions, giant wars; All prisons, and innocent lives that find the street And the cloud their prison; all listless heavy feet; All cancers with twisted root that shall never be whole, And cancerous slanders draining a true man's soul; All scaling leprosy eating the face away, And scaling avarice no content shall stay; All hearts that are sick in the sleeplessness of night, And sick in the conflict of dawn; all grudge of delight In surly households; all frenzies of day or dream Till alike the heavens of earth and spirit seem Pale and drawn by the pain of the deep abscess at the core Of Being— O heart, if this indeed were no more Than a hurt, than a rub by the way, than a prick in man's heel Which a day's rest soothes and his health no more shall feel, Nor his foot delay, nor his mind be wracked, so long His infinite way is, his joy in the way so strong! |