Classic Poem

Man in the making — God watched him with pride,
Striving to shake off the marks of the clod;
" How can I make him more splendid, " He sighed,
" Shape him still more in the image of God? "
Then, as His thought, like a flame, lit the sky,
God turned and spoke to the angels that wait,
" Lo, he shall thrill with it, even as I; —
He shall be godly, for he shall create. "

Thus was the furious measure of bliss
Kindled in men, an insatiate fire.
God's very joy is no wilder than this
Lust of creation, this grappling desire.
The passion that surges like wave upon wave —
Imperative travail, this hand at the heart. . .
Aye, He was God when He lavishly gave
To the mother her child, to the artist his art.