LET me not deem that I was made in vain, <br />Or that my being was an accident, <br />Which fate, in working its sublime intent, <br />Not wished to be, to hinder would not deign. <br />Each drop uncounted in a storm of rain <br />Hath its own mission, and is duly sent <br />To its own leaf or blade, not idly spent <br />'Mid myriad dimples on the shipless main. <br />The very shadow of an insect's wing, <br />For which the violet cared not while it stayed, <br />Yet felt the lighter for its vanishing, <br />Proved that the sun was shining by its shade: <br />Then can a drop of the eternal spring, <br />Shadow of living lights, in vain be made?<br /><br />Hartley Coleridge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-life-vain/
