Sonnet
God sent a poet to reform His earth.
But when he came and found it cold and poor,
Harsh and unlovely, where each prosperous boor
Held poets light for all their heavenly birth.
He thought—Myself can make one better worth
The living in than this—full of old lore.
Music and light and love, where Saints adore
And Angels, all within mine own soul's girth.
But when at last he came to die, his soul
Saw earth (flying past to Heaven), with new love.
And all the unused passion in him cried:
O God, your Heaven I know and weary of.
Give me this world to work in and make whole.
God spoke: Therein, thou fool, hast lived and died!
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