a night: mysterious, tender, quiet, deep;

heavy with flowers; full of life asleep;

thrilling with insect voices; thick with stars;

9no cloud between the dewdrops and red mars;

the small earth whirling softly on her way,

the moonbeams and the waterfalls at play;

a million million worlds that move in peace,

a million mighty laws that never cease;

and one small ant-heap, hidden by small weeds,

rich with eggs, slaves, and store of millet seeds.

they sleep beneath the sod

and trust in god.

a day: all glorious, royal, blazing bright;

heavy with flowers; full of life and light;

great fields of corn and sunshine; courteous trees;

snow-sainted mountains; earth-embracing seas;

wide golden deserts; slender silver streams;

clear rainbows where the tossing fountain gleams;

and everywhere, in happiness and peace,

a million forms of life that never cease;

and one small ant-heap, crushed by passing tread,

hath scarce enough alive to mourn the dead!

they shriek beneath the sod,

“there is no god!”