Classic Poem

O star-built bridge, broad milky way!
O star-lit, stately, splendid span!
If but one star should cease to stay
And prop its shoulders to God's plan—
The man who lives for self, I say,
He lives for neither God nor man.

I count the columned waves at war
With Titan elements; and they,
In martial splendor, storm the bar
And shake the world, these bits of spray.
Each gives to each, and like the star
Gets back its gift in tenfold pay.

To get and give and give amain
The rivers run and oceans roll.
O generous and high-born rain
When raining as a splendid whole!
That man who lives for self, again,
I say, has neither sense nor soul.