Seen in a Country Church-Yard (abridged)
Above the ground where Adam’s jar of clay
Lay broken and concealed in night beneath,
The day’s first rays of light and warmth now played
Upon each green and lightly frosted leaf.
The sun rose higher, casting ancient streams
Of light and life on all that it surveyed;
The world was woken from its former dream,
Its silence cut by sunlight's friendly blade.
A thousand living artworks stirred unseen
Amidst the solar-generated seas
Of grasses in the fields near by our scene
Where flowers gave their scent up to the breeze.
An icy puddle, sheltered in the shade
Of Adam’s marker, stirred a robin’s will
To peck the surface ‘till the glass gave way
And ice-cool water praised the worker’s skill.
What contrast with the jar of clay beneath:
Unanimated echoes of the soul
Who, while his frame still had the strength to breathe,
Professed no rhyme or reason to the whole.
But Luther knew what Adam saw and scorned:
'If thou couldst understand a single grain
Of wheat' then 'thou wouldst die for wonder', awed
By all these witnesses against your claim.