And stop him, somehow, when he grew so thick
That even air fell short. Or would you have
All plants and animals, and make them change
By some metempsychosis not called death?
For, having them, you have to have them change,
For growth is change, and life is growth; and change
Implies—in this world—what we miscall pain.
You, wiser, would have made mankind, no doubt,
Not slowly, awfully, from dying brutes
Up into living humanness at last,