THE PADDOCK
By the changing want, by the changed will,
Of the changed and changing World!
Within whose opal and iris eyes,
Birth has being, and Being dies:
By whose opening or closing hand
Growth’s green fire is foil’d or fann’d:
At whose Destiny’s deep demand,
Life is sunder’d and Death is spann’d:
Whose want and whose way the measurement is
Of my wilfulness, and my waywardness—
Its time my season, its rule my reason!
By the law of its listing
Doing, desisting,
Swift, slow, I brood or I blow,
Roar or whisper, dwindle or grow:
Captain the tempest, convoy the fog,
Out of its covering coax the leaf,
Or fell the forest into the log:
Carry the clamour of Joy, or Grief,
Fan the fire, or winnow the sheaf.
Still the same Need constraining me,
I strew the seeds that succour or sicken,
Loose the freshets that quench and quicken,
Rend the ships on the terrible Sea,
Or over the headland golden-brown
Dreamily drift the thistle-down.
All that is bound on me, I bear,
All that is shared with me, I share.
The lading that hath been lent to me,
Take it! if it be sent to thee;
The merchandise thou art apt to make,
Give it to me! for the whole World’s sake.
Give it, give it! for I must take.
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