Preparation

We must not force events, but rather make     The heart soil ready for their coming, as     The earth spreads carpets for the feet of Spring,     Or, with the strengthening tonic of the frost,     Prepares for Winter. Should a July noon     Burst suddenly upon a frozen world     Small joy would follow, even tho' that world     Were longing for the Summer. Should the sting     Of sharp December pierce the heart of June,     What death and devastation would ensue!     All things are planned. The most majestic sphere     That whirls through space is governed and controlled     By supreme law, as is the blade of grass     Which through the bursting bosom of the earth     Creeps up to kiss the light. Poor puny man     Alone doth strive and battle with the Force     Which rules all lives and worlds, and he alone     Demands effect before producing cause.     How vain the hope! We cannot harvest joy     Until we sow the seed, and God alone     Knows when that seed has ripened. Oft we stand     And watch the ground with anxious brooding eyes     Complaining of the slow unfruitful yield,     Not knowing that the shadow of ourselves     Keeps off the sunlight and delays result.     Sometimes our fierce impatience of desire     Doth like a sultry May force tender shoots     Of half-formed pleasures and unshaped events     To ripen prematurely, and we reap     But disappointment; or we rot the germs     With briny tears ere they have time to grow.     While stars are born and mighty planets die     And hissing comets scorch the brow of space     The Universe keeps its eternal calm.     Through patient preparation, year on year,     The earth endures the travail of the Spring     And Winter's desolation. So our souls     In grand submission to a higher law     Should move serene through all the ills of life,     Believing them masked joys.