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Canto 4

The Kingdoms of the Little Life

The Formless Yearning

A Power beyond earth’s scope has touched the earth;

The repose that might have been can be no more;

A formless yearning passions in man’s heart,

A cry is in his blood for happier things:

Else could he roam on a free sunlit soil

With the childlike pain-forgetting mind of beasts

Or live happy, unmoved, like flowers and trees.

The Might that came upon the earth to bless,

Has stayed on earth to suffer and aspire.

The infant laugh that rang through time is hushed:

Man’s natural joy of life is overcast

............

The Birth of Sense

An inconscient Power groped towards consciousness,

Matter smitten by Matter glimmered to sense,

Blind contacts, slow reactions beat out sparks

Of instinct from a cloaked subliminal bed,

Sensations crowded, dumb substitutes for thought,

Perception answered Nature’s wakening blows

But still was a mechanical response,

A jerk, a leap, a start in Nature’s dream,

And rude unchastened impulses jostling ran

Heedless of every motion but their own

And, darkling, clashed with darker than themselves,

Free in a world of settled anarchy.

II.4.176-87

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