Where the salt marshes stagnate, crystals branch;
Blood dries to crimson; Evil's beautified
In every shape. Thrust Beauty then aside
And banish Evil! Wherefore? After all,
Is Evil a result less natural
Than Good? For overlook the seasons' strife
With tree and flower,—the hideous animal life,
(Of which who seeks shall find a grinning taunt
How much of man's ill may be removed?
For his solution, and endure the vaunt