God-Forgotten

By Thomas Hardy

6/2/1840-1/11/1928


I towered far, and lo! I stood within
         The presence of the Lord Most High,
Sent thither by the sons of earth, to win
         Some answer to their cry.

         --"The Earth, say'st thou? The Human race?
         By Me created? Sad its lot?
Nay: I have no remembrance of such place:
         Such world I fashioned not." -

         --"O Lord, forgive me when I say
         Thou spak'st the word, and mad'st it all." -
"The Earth of men--let me bethink me . . . Yea!
         I dimly do recall

         "Some tiny sphere I built long back
         (Mid millions of such shapes of mine)
So named . . . It perished, surely--not a wrack
         Remaining, or a sign?

         "It lost my interest from the first,
         My aims therefor succeeding ill;
Haply it died of doing as it durst?" -
         "Lord, it existeth still." -

         "Dark, then, its life! For not a cry
         Of aught it bears do I now hear;
Of its own act the threads were snapt whereby
         Its plaints had reached mine ear.

         "It used to ask for gifts of good,
         Till came its severance self-entailed,
When sudden silence on that side ensued,
         And has till now prevailed.

         "All other orbs have kept in touch;
         Their voicings reach me speedily:
Thy people took upon them overmuch
         In sundering them from me!

         "And it is strange--though sad enough -
         Earth's race should think that one whose call
Frames, daily, shining spheres of flawless stuff
         Must heed their tainted ball! . . .

         "But say'st thou 'tis by pangs distraught,
         And strife, and silent suffering? -
Deep grieved am I that injury should be wrought
         Even on so poor a thing!

         "Thou should'st have learnt that Not to Mend
         For Me could mean but Not to Know:
Hence, Messengers! and straightway put an end
         To what men undergo." . . .

         Homing at dawn, I thought to see
         One of the Messengers standing by.
- Oh, childish thought! . . . Yet oft it comes to me
         When trouble hovers nigh.

DayPoems Poem No. 1028
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/1028.html">God-Forgotten by Thomas Hardy</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
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