Classic Poem

While I can watch the gusty grass at play,
And hear the wind crash through the pinewood bars,
I envy not to God the crown of stars—
With which He crowned Him on Creation day.

But once she swung, a child, in woods alone
In days no sun or moon shall make again
And when about her came the finch and wren,
God sat and laughed upon a great white throne.

Bent o'er a thousand trifles, low and high
He saw her face, lonely and grave and good
On all the mysteries of her Womanhood
Sleeping and waking, was the unsleeping eye.

Haply some eve she looked through lattice-bars,
Some smile I know not stirred her quaint sweet eyes
Then in a nameless envy I arise
And as a blind brute giant smite the stars.

A fallen star burns on the brow I nod
Huge and obscure I stand of loin and limb,
My name is Lucifer, the name of him
Alone of things that knoweth that God is God.