MEN are Heaven's piers; they evermore <br />Unwearying bear the skyey floor; <br />Man's theatre they bear with ease, <br />Unfrowning cariatides! <br />I, for my wife, the sun uphold, <br />Or, dozing, strike the seasons cold. <br />She, on her side, in fairy-wise <br />Deals in diviner mysteries, <br />By spells to make the fuel burn <br />And keep the parlour warm, to turn <br />Water to wine, and stones to bread, <br />By her unconquered hero-head. <br />A naked Adam, naked Eve, <br />Alone the primal bower we weave; <br />Sequestered in the seas of life, <br />A Crusoe couple, man and wife, <br />With all our good, with all our will, <br />Our unfrequented isle we fill; <br />And victor in day's petty wars, <br />Each for the other lights the stars. <br />Come then, my Eve, and to and fro <br />Let us about our garden go; <br />And, grateful-hearted, hand in hand <br />Revisit all our tillage land, <br />And marvel at our strange estate, <br />For hooded ruin at the gate <br />Sits watchful, and the angels fear <br />To see us tread so boldly here. <br />Meanwhile, my Eve, with flower and grass <br />Our perishable days we pass; <br />Far more the thorn observe - and see <br />How our enormous sins go free - <br />Nor less admire, beside the rose, <br />How far a little virtue goes.<br /><br />Robert Louis Stevenson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/men-are-heaven-s-piers/
