[Were there no oxen feeding in the stall]
“Where no oxen are, the crib is clean:
but much increase is by the strength of the
ox.”—Prov. xiv. 4.
Were there no oxen feeding in the stall,
The crib were clean:
But without oxen harvest would be small,
Housekeeping lean:
Wherefore we may not be too prim and nice;
There is no good that doth not cost a price.
Were there no children in the house, it were
Dainty and trim;
But without children, lo! the hearth were bare
And cold and dim:
Better their laughter than a chamber neat,
For only in their mirth is home complete.
Were there no thinking, there would be no doubt
To vex the heart;
But life were brutish if it were without
Its thinking part:
And to be Godlike we must risk the chance
Of doubting much that we believed once.
Were there no stir among the dry bones, then
Were there much peace;
But if the Spirit move not, Death's dull reign
Would never cease;
Better fanatic follies than to lie
Cold and unmoved in starched propriety.
Something, I reckon, we have still to give
In sacrifice
That we may richly grow, and greatly live;
And 'tis a vice
To grudge what makes our being large and full
For the small order of a frigid rule.
