What man I am, you made me so!
You stirred the sluggard, taught the clod,
Came and were merciful and God
To the mewed hawk with blinded eyes
And flung him out across the skies!
Yet I have some of you—I hold
A portion of your sacred gold!
It was by steel and flame you taught
And, though the lesson stands cheap-bought,
A curl, a word, a face remain,