Classic Poem

In the April sun
Shuffling, shapeless, bent,
Cobweb-eyed, with stick
Searching, one by one,
Gutter-heaps, intent
Wretched rags to pick.

Oh, is this a man? —
Man, whose spirit erect
Trampling circumstance,
Death and evil, can
Measure worlds, nor checked
By fell time and chance,

With undaunted eye,
With a mouth of song,
Front the starry blue? —
(O you passers-by,
Moving swift and strong,
Answer, what seek you?)

Husk of manhood, mere
Shrivel of his kind! —
In a bloodless mask
How the old eyes peer,
With no light behind! —
Mate of his mean task;

Yet this wreckage fill
With a thought, possess
With a faith's empire,
It shall be a will
Mightier than the seas,
Man, more dread than fire!

In the April sun
Shuffling, shapeless, bent,
Cobweb-eyed, with stick
Searching, one by one,
Gutter-heaps, intent
Wretched rags to pick.

Oh, is this a man? —
Man, whose spirit erect
Trampling circumstance,
Death and evil, can
Measure worlds, nor checked
By fell time and chance,

With undaunted eye,
With a mouth of song,
Front the starry blue? —
(O you passers-by,
Moving swift and strong,
Answer, what seek you?)

Husk of manhood, mere
Shrivel of his kind! —
In a bloodless mask
How the old eyes peer,
With no light behind! —
Mate of his mean task;

Yet this wreckage fill
With a thought, possess
With a faith's empire,
It shall be a will
Mightier than the seas,
Man, more dread than fire!