Classic Poem

Evil ! What poor argument
We mortals hear to make us trust
That as for God he never meant
To bait this hook of pain with lust!
Then by what devil was it thrust
Thro' the filmy, first upheaval
Of our planetary dust?
No man knoweth the end of evil.

By dint of wishing, sages say,
Things shape themselves much as we see;
And filth and pain are the price we pay
Largely for the will to be;
That we evolve contingently
On such acceptance and receival:
Is this the measure of God's mercy?
No man knoweth the end of evil.

Say if you choose there is naught but good:
Harden your heart and soften your brain:
Say wrong is right misunderstood:
Close your eyes to filth and pain:
Swear all is right and all is sane,
And all correct from days primeval:
And then—well, then what will you gain?
No man knoweth the end of evil.

We strive in mud forever obscure,
Forever in hope of some reprieval,
But living or dead we are not sure:
No man knoweth the end of evil.