Classic Poem

I LEANT my ear to the world's heart,
(Beat, beat, beat!)
I leant my ear to the world's heart,
Where all its voices meet.
I heard them sound together,
I heard them surge alone,
The far, the near, and the nether,
The known — and the unknown.
From desert they rose and mountain,
From city and sea and plain,
And the voices, all, to one voice
Blent, in the bitter pain:
We are the people of Sorrow,
Haled from the silent earth,
Happy is it,
Happy is love —
Happier should be birth!
We come to the land of the living,
We go to the realm of death,
We bide for a day
And then ... away!
O why are we given breath!

II

I leant my ear to the world's heart,
(Leant, more nigh!)
A saddened ear to the world's heart,
Fain for a sweeter cry.
And the lone murmur of nations,
With languor loud, or need,
Sighed on, of devastations,
Of deed and dark misdeed;
But now upwelling through it,
Throbbingly intertwined,
It seemed that I heard great Hope's word
Groping, a way to find:
We are the people begotten
Between Delight and Pain.
Certain is birth,
Certain are They
To breed our like again.
But though we fill the valleys,
And the sea and the hills with death,
Must we assume
That for our doom
Alone we are given breath?

III

I leant my ear to the world's heart,
(Leant, then, long)
A closer ear to the world's heart,
And lo — it beat more strong!
And the building of human beauty,
The crushing of human crime,
The music of human duty
Outclarioned fate and time.
For over the cry of sorrow
And doubt and dazing grief
There rose the lay of a New Day,
The high voice of Belief:
We are the people of Patience,
Who wait — and look before.
Silent is birth,
Silent the tomb,
But silent Life no more!
Our gods are becoming One God,
And though there is ever death,
We yet shall learn,
At some day's turn,
Why — why we are given breath!