The rocks and trees in silence stood
To see where Man ran by,
A creature weak as this one is
What can he do but die?
But as they stood and scornful smiled
They heard an angel call:
‘The tender creature needeth love,
He needeth love above all.’

This made the rocks and trees laugh more
Until they saw the force of it,
Saw man disembowelling the earth
And killing because of it.

Ah then they found Man admirable,
‘But,’ said the angel ‘is he?’
And weeping cried, ‘The need of love
Makes Man too busy.’

Then God said, ‘You are wrong all,
The need of love is meant to call
Man to me, I am love, I,
If it does not, for lack of love he’ll die.’

But then came a little wind sneaking along
That was older than all and infamously strong,
‘Oh what an artistic animal is our little Man,’
Sneered the wind, ‘It is wonderful how he can
Invent fairy stories about everything, pit pat,
Will he ever face fact and not feel flat?’