Half god, half brute, within the self-same shell, <br />Changers with every hour from dawn till even, <br />Who dream with angels in the gate of heaven, <br />And skirt with curious eyes the brinks of hell, <br />Children of Pan, whom some, the few, love well, <br />But most draw back, and know not what to say, <br />Poor shining angels, whom the hoofs betray, <br />Whose pinions frighten with their goatish smell. <br /> <br />Half brutish, half divine, but all of earth, <br />Half-way 'twixt hell and heaven, near to man, <br />The whole world's tangle gathered in one span, <br />Full of this human torture and this mirth: <br />Life with its hope and error, toil and bliss, <br />Earth-born, earth-reared, ye know it as it is.<br /><br />Archibald Lampman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poets-10/
