Classic Poem

If thou didst slip 'neath the encircling wave
And found sure death in coral groves below,
Dost think the sea o'er thy unresting head
Would check one moment of its ebb or flow?
If thou didst lie 'neath the entombing earth,
Drawn down ere thy allotted sands had run,
Dost think one flower upspringing from the clay
Would pause and droop, refuse to meet the sun?
If thou wert dead and didst enshrouded lie,
Wept by one heart that hung by thee forlorn,
Dost think at cold or hunger's claiming call
This heart would stay beside thy grave to mourn?
How small a thing thou art in Nature's plan
To her proved useless, out all careless tossed,
Nor would she let one flower or heartstring break
In grief for thee—who hadst a whole world lost.