Page:Poems (1853).djvu/70

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56
THE DUMB CREATION.

THE DUMB CREATION.


Deal kindly with those speechless ones,
That throng our gladsome earth;
Say not the bounteous gift of life
Alone is nothing worth.

What though with mournful memories
They sigh not for the past?
What though their ever joyous Now
No future overcast?

No aspirations fill their breast
With longings undefined;
They live, they love, and they are blest,
For what they seek they find.

They see no mystery in the stars,
No wonder in the plain;
And Life’s enigma wakes in them
No questions dark and vain.

To them earth is a final home,
A bright and blest abode;
Their lives unconsciously flow on
In harmony with God.