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Femina Contra Mundum

The sun was black with judgment, and the moon
       Blood: but between
I saw a man stand, saying: ‘To me at least
       The grass is green.
 
’There was no star that I forgot to fear
       With love and wonder.
The birds have loved me’; but no answer came —
       Only the thunder.
 
.        .        .        .        .        .        .
 
Once more the man stood, saying: ‘A cottage door,
       Wherethrough I gazed
That instant as I turned —yea, I am vile;
       Yet my eyes blazed.
 
’For I had weighed the mountains in a balance,
       And the skies in a scale,
I come to sell the stars —old lamps for new —
       Old stars for sale.'
 
Then a calm voice fell all the thunder through,
       A tone less rough:
‘Thou hast begun to love one of my works
       Almost enough.’
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