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 | The poetical works of Edward Rowland Sill |  |
What then
Is this wild creature, wandering up and down,
Seeking a thousand things, but keeping still
A thought of God in his heart? Why is he here,
Feet in the sod and thoughts among the stars,
Bewildered for some watchword or command,
As a battalion wavering on the field
Without a leader? In the march of worlds
Is Earth alone forgotten?
Is this wild creature, wandering up and down,
Seeking a thousand things, but keeping still
A thought of God in his heart? Why is he here,
Feet in the sod and thoughts among the stars,
Bewildered for some watchword or command,
As a battalion wavering on the field
Without a leader? In the march of worlds
Is Earth alone forgotten?
| The poetical works of Edward Rowland Sill | |