Out of these, Lord ---
A cancerous old man, a jealous
Wife nightlong reciting
Her litany of ancient wrongs,
And a little young hot adulteress
Between her two men - out of these ordinary
Elements of common life, these two or three persons
Who not without cause question it,
Can any discovery shine, or hawk rise?
For you are not human, no respecter of persons,
Nor subject to disgust nor a stickler at sin,
And your ways are all beautiful.
Even your decaying things, the sea-slime and carrion
Shine in the dark; even this troublesome decaying time
That does evil in its dreams,
Drunk with treacheries and cruelties,
Phosphorescent with wars,
Flares like a torch.
It has its own forlorn honor, and its pillars of music
To the pure stars.