Two Poems

I If suddenly a clod of earth should rise, And walk about, and breathe, and speak, and love, How one would tremble, and in what surprise Gasp: 'Can you move?' I see men walking, and I always feel: 'Earth! How have you done this? What can you be?' I can't learn how to know men, or conceal How strange they are to me. II A flower is looking through the ground, Blinking at the April weather; Now a child has seen the flower: Now they go and play together. Now it seems the flower will speak, And will call the child its brother— But, oh strange forgetfulness!— They don't recognize each other.