A Child of the People And Other Poems. By James Chapman Woods |
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ANT-HILLS. |
 | A Child of the People |  |
171
ANT-HILLS.
To-day, when I had dreamed of loneliness,
Round me uncounted presences I feel.
Turn but a stone, and unroofed streets reveal
A people, multifold with life's excess,
Dowered with various instincts, arts, address,
Yet linked in labour for the common weal.
I think the crowded ant-hill must conceal
An equal life to mine in all these less.
Round me uncounted presences I feel.
Turn but a stone, and unroofed streets reveal
A people, multifold with life's excess,
Dowered with various instincts, arts, address,
Yet linked in labour for the common weal.
I think the crowded ant-hill must conceal
An equal life to mine in all these less.
To some lone angel puzzling out our life
Perchance ev'n we a perfect unit grow,
His peer, to break the silence of his road;
And of His worlds, embroiled in seething strife,
God's eye doth catch the rhythmic pause and flow,
Yet marks each pigmy, busy with his load.
Perchance ev'n we a perfect unit grow,
His peer, to break the silence of his road;
And of His worlds, embroiled in seething strife,
God's eye doth catch the rhythmic pause and flow,
Yet marks each pigmy, busy with his load.
| A Child of the People | |