What myriad living things
On these gray stones unseen may dwell!
What nations, with their kings!
I feel no shock, I hear no groan,
While fate, perchance, o'erwhelms
Empires on this subverted stone--
A hundred ruined realms!
Lo! in that dot, some mite, like me,
Impelled by woe or whim,
May crawl, some atom's cliffs to see--
A tiny world to him!
Lo! while he pauses, and admires
The works of nature's might,
Spurned by my foot, his world expires,
And all to him is night!
Oh, God of terrors! what are we?--
Poor insects sparked with thought!
Thy whisper, Lord, a word from thee,
Could smite us into naught!
But should'st thou wreck our father-land,
And mix it with the deep,
Safe in the hollow of thy hand
Thy little one will sleep.

_Amulet._


[5] The hedge-sparrow.

[6] The dandelion.