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Poem	Many have Earth's lovers been, Tried in seas and wars, I ween; Yet the mightiest have I seen: Yea, the best saw I. One that in a field alone Stood up stiller than a stone Lest a moth should fly. Birds had nested in his hair, On his shoon were mosses rare, Insect empires flourished there, Worms in ancient wars; But his eyes burn like a glass, Hearing a great sea of grass Roar towards the stars. From them to the human tree Rose a cry continually: `Thou art still, our Father, we Fain would have thee nod. Make the skies as blood below thee, Though thou slay us, we shall know thee. Answer us, O God! `Show thine ancient fame and thunder, Split the stillness once asunder, Lest we whisper, lest we wonder Art thou there at all?' But I saw him there alone, Standing stiller than a stone Lest a moth should fall.
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