Classic Poem

I believe in the increasing of life: whatever
Leads to the seeing of small trifles,
Real, beautiful, is good; and an act never
Is worthier than in freeing spirit that stifles
Under ingratitude's weight, nor is anything done
Wiselier than the moving or breaking to sight
Of a thing hidden under by custom—revealed,
Fulfilled, used (sound-fashioned) any way out to delight:
Trefoil—hedge sparrow—the stars on the edge at night.