Oh teeming heart, that, for this once, in vain <br />Big with our good, didst undeliver'd die, <br />Had some god got thee with a progeny <br />O'er-great, that, born, might even dispute the reign <br />Of Death, as Death had seen the realms of Pain <br />Won by thine elder brood? We marvell'd why, <br />So seeming-careless of his sovereignty, <br />He spared and spared thee: doth this day explain <br />The Fabian greed that grudged a needless blow? <br />Knowing too well what deity possest <br />Thee, did the dead-eyed strategist foreknow <br />How the huge god must choke the mortal breast? <br />The mortal breast, deep under clod and sod, <br />Out of the half-saved world drag down the abortive god?<br /><br />Sydney Thompson Dobell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-james-y-simpson/
