Classic Poem

There is a body, every joint and limb
Is still, yet moves by God's all-holy law;
The eye turns here and there, yet turns in him,
The ear no sound but his own words can draw;
Its voice the long-stopped ear obedient hears,
The withered hand outstretched its bidding owns,
And they who mourn the dead dry up their tears,
The prison walls hear not their captive's groans;
Through the wide world of living death it brings
A new-born life wherever it walks abroad;
Such as beneath the feet of M ay up springs
When forth she steps where Winter late has trod;
And at her coming starts the palsied year,
That slumbers on though summer months are near.