Classic Poem

Tread softly; we are on enchanted ground:
One touch and every hidden thing lies bare,
The deep sea sundered, suddenly unbound
The awful thunders instinct in the air!

Oh, these we know; but what if we should break
A secret spell as easily as glass,
And stumble on their sleeping wrath and wake
The armies and the million blades of grass?

And find more dread than whirlwinds round our head,
The sweep of sparrows' fierce, avenging wings,
The anger of wild roses burning red,
The terrible hate of earth's most helpless things?