Or much, if guiltless creatures, that were cruelly entreated upon earth,
Found some commensurate reward in lower joys hereafter?
Or much, if a Creator, prodigal of life, and filled with the profundity of love,
Rejoice in all creatures of His skill, and lead them to perfection in their kind?
O man, there are many marvels; yet life is more a mystery than death:
For death may be some stagnant life,—but life is present God!
Many are the lurking-holes of evil; who shall search them out?
Who so skilled to cut away the cancer with its fibres?
For wily minds with sinuous ease escape from lie to lie;
And cowards driven from the trench steal back to hide again.