To An Elephant.

Lord of the trunk and fan-like ears,
Wisest and mightiest next to man,
I see thee hence a million years
Ruling the earth with milder plan.
Dwellers above, beneath the ground,
Shall live contented in that time;
No subtle growths shall e'er confound
Their natural joy and instinct prime.

Not such as those who planned to nought
And groped (wise fools!) beyond their ken
Scarce knowing what they loved or sought--
Those subtle growths, those weary men--
Shall dwell earth's inexperienced brood
In natural joy and instinct prime;
But without evil, without good,
Be each new moment, not all time.

Jungles shall grow where cities stood,
The mighty rivers roar unbridged
The hungry tiger seek his food,
Save for thy bidding, privileged,
Where (weary subtle growths) we bore
Our burden of humanity;
For conscious mind shall work no more
And man himself have ceased to be.
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