The Two Questions

"A riddling world!" one cried.          "If pangs must be, would God that they were sent          To the impure, the cruel, and passed aside                      The holy innocent!"                      But I, "Ah no, no, no!          Not the clean heart transpierced; not tears that fall          For a childs agony; not a martyrs woe;                      Not these, not these appal.                      "Not docile motherhood,          Dutiful, frequent, closed in all distress;          Not shedding of the unoffending blood;                      Not little joy grown less;                      "Not all-benign old age          With dotage mocked; not gallantry that faints          And still pursues; not the vile heritage                      Of sins disease in saints;                      "Not these defeat the mind.          For great is that abjection, and august          That irony.    Submissive we shall find                      A splendour in that dust.                      "Not these puzzle the will;          Not these the yet unanswered question urge.          But the unjust stricken; but the hands that kill                      Lopped; but the merited scourge;                      "The sensualist at fast;          The merciless felled; the liar in his snares.          The cowardice of my judgment sees, aghast,                      The flail, the chaff, the tares."