Many workmen Built a huge ball of masonry Upon a mountain-top. Then they went to the valley below, And turned to behold their work. "It is grand," they said; They loved the thing. Of a sudden, it moved: It came upon them swiftly; It crushed them all to blood. But some had opportunity to squeal.

Two or three angels Came near to the earth. They saw a fat church. Little black streams of people Came and went in continually. And the angels were puzzled To know why the people went thus, And why they stayed so long within.

There was one I met upon the road Who looked at me with kind eyes. He said, "Show me of your wares." And this I did, Holding forth one. He said, "It is a sin." Then held I forth another; He said, "It is a sin." Then held I forth another; He said, "It is a sin." And so to the end; Always he said, "It is a sin." And, finally, I cried out, "But I have none other." Then did he look at me With kinder eyes. "Poor soul!" he said.

I stood upon a highway, And, behold, there came Many strange peddlers. To me each one made gestures, Holding forth little images, saying, "This is my pattern of God. Now this is the God I prefer." But I said, "Hence! Leave me with mine own, And take you yours away; I can't buy of your patterns of God, The little gods you may rightly prefer."

A man saw a ball of gold in the sky; He climbed for it, And eventually he achieved it -- It was clay. Now this is the strange part: When the man went to the earth And looked again, Lo, there was the ball of gold. Now this is the strange part: It was a ball of gold. Aye, by the heavens, it was a ball of gold.

I met a seer. He held in his hands The book of wisdom. "Sir," I addressed him, "Let me read." "Child -- " he began. "Sir," I said, "Think not that I am a child, For already I know much Of that which you hold. Aye, much." He smiled. Then he opened the book And held it before me. -- Strange that I should have grown so suddenly blind.

On the horizon the peaks assembled; And as I looked, The march of the mountains began. As they marched, they sang, "Aye! We come! We come!"

The ocean said to me once, "Look! Yonder on the shore Is a woman, weeping. I have watched her. Go you and tell her this -- Her lover I have laid In cool green hall. There is wealth of golden sand And pillars, coral-red; Two white fish stand guard at his bier. "Tell her this And more -- That the king of the seas Weeps too, old, helpless man. The bustling fates Heap his hands with corpses Until he stands like a child With a surplus of toys."

The livid lightnings flashed in the clouds; The leaden thunders crashed. A worshipper raised his arm. "Hearken! Hearken! The voice of God!" "Not so," said a man. "The voice of God whispers in the heart So softly That the soul pauses, Making no noise, And strives for these melodies, Distant, sighing, like faintest breath, And all the being is still to hear."

And you love me I love you. You are, then, cold coward. Aye; but, beloved, When I strive to come to you, Man's opinions, a thousand thickets, My interwoven existence, My life, Caught in the stubble of the world Like a tender veil -- This stays me. No strange move can I make Without noise of tearing I dare not. If love loves, There is no world Nor word. All is lost Save thought of love And place to dream. You love me? I love you. You are, then, cold coward. Aye; but, beloved --