 | Coffin's Poems with Ajax' Ordeals |  |
Man's Imperfections.
O life why so imperfect?
And life cried in elation,
Don't fault my God nor me correct,
But man and his ovation.
And life cried in elation,
Don't fault my God nor me correct,
But man and his ovation.
48
The little bird enjoys his life,
The ant improves his time;
Its only man's abusive strife,
That wrecks this holy clime.
The ant improves his time;
Its only man's abusive strife,
That wrecks this holy clime.
The rippling stream goes swiftly by,
The plants grow undistubed;
And only man fills life with sighs,
And makes crime reign superb.
The plants grow undistubed;
And only man fills life with sighs,
And makes crime reign superb.
The sun and moon and stars are bright,
This earth's a paradise;
But man stands in his own sunlight,
As imperfection's vice.
This earth's a paradise;
But man stands in his own sunlight,
As imperfection's vice.
| Coffin's Poems with Ajax' Ordeals | |