Classic Poem

If the power of God were mine, and the ample turn,
I never could dwell in my law, which is stablished and stern

But my pity would plague me still! In the fare of my state
I would summon my ministers often to reprobate:

" Do ye see them walk on the unwaked streets of the town?
Are they not of my handmaidens burdened and bending down?

" It is not yet day, and my tale of the stars not told,
But already they bear of their burdens and tremble of cold

" Do ye heed not her, ye stony and reconciled,
One gathering sticks for a fire who is heavy with child?

" And one was so heavy with sleep that she watched not, and slept
Till it nearly was dawn and then she arose and wept

" Previsal I made, and the burning of quenchless gold,
Yet still they bedevil my kingdom, the dark and the cold

" There is labor appointed, I know not if it shall cease
Yet anon cometh night and my daughters shall lie in peace

" What avoideth my glory of firmaments keeping the way,
If the poor soft flesh must trouble before the day?

" Or spectacular stars, as they race to encircuit the deep,
If my littlest people is driven and needeth sleep?

" For my absolute heaven is high, and nothing dependeth,
Yet it twitcheth my heart when weeping of women ascendeth.

" Then arrange ye again how the people's task be done.
There shall no woman toil till they see my sign of the sun "