When I am put to bed by death And tucked in by the grave-digger Under a blanket of red clay, As big as I or a little bigger, I shall find the means to walk -- If means are -- through rocks and rivers, And listening to the atoms talk Cull some wisdom from their quivers. I shall ply the mole with queries, Ask of the blind earth-worm the way. From queer bony fossil-series Learn if life has gone astray. Learn if up is better than down, If ascent has any meaning; If the ant-hill or the town Is the aim toward which Time's leaning. I shall have great whiles as spirit, If I'm that; if not as dust, Which at least has @3this@1 merit: Senselessness to any thrust. |