"From dust thou art and unto dust thou shalt return" Was given unto us who work; The living man must do his part, His life is short, but unto death He needs must speed and idle not nor shirk. Nature will not lend herself to science or the arts For men who are not so adapted and inspired, She spreads her knowledge in the mental realm Of those whose mortal spark is with this power fired And uses them as captains at the helm. The man who tills the soil for bread Cannot within himself perform the major deed But from the power await the growth and rain That nature gives the planted seed. If nature choose to cover lands with dust Can man alleviate this great distraint? What can man do to cause the skies to rain? What can man do when all he does, he does in vain? What can man do to change his lot but tolerate When so much must be done without his aid? How can man build his bridges and developments? What good can engineering do the masters Without the plans in harmony with elements? Where can man seek the needed power to heal Without the chemicals that nature has provided? What man has all the science and the zeal To keep a life on earth with soul and corpse divided? Who is man and why does he mock the laws of nature When so much on that very power depends? Why is the universe and death a mystery? Why so much repetition in our history? The universe remains the same without amends. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: CARL HAMBLIN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS ELEGIAC SONNET: 4. TO THE MOON by CHARLOTTE SMITH STANZAS IN THE MEMORY OF EDWARD QUILLINAN, ESQ. by MATTHEW ARNOLD NOVEMBER MORNING by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LAST OF AUTUMN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE THREE SAD SHEPPARDESSES, GOE TO A LITTLE TABLE, WHERE THEY SINGE by ELIZABETH BRACKLEY |