Evolution

As from the old nest birds escape, As sheds its leaves the living tree, So if evolved from worm or ape What odds if we at last are free?

If once but dust or ape or worm, A growing brain and then a soul, Sure these are but prophetic germ Of that which makes our circle whole.

John Albee.

From THE SONG OF MYSELF

I am an acme of things accomplish’d, and I am an encloser of things to be. My feet strike an apex of the apices of the stairs: On every step bunches of ages, and larger bunches between the steps, All below duly travel’d, and still I mount and mount. Rise after rise bow the phantoms behind me: Afar down I see the huge first Nothing. I know I was even there, I waited unseen and always, and slept through the lethargic mist, And took my time and took no hurt from the fetid carbon. Long I was hugg’d close--long and long. Immense have been the preparations for me, Faithful and friendly the arms that have help’d me. Cycles ferried my cradle, rowing and rowing like cheerful boatmen; For room to me stars kept aside in their own rings-- They sent influences to look after what was to hold me. Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me, My embryo has never been torpid, nothing could overlay it. For it the nebula cohered to an orb, The long slow strata piled to rest it on, Vast vegetables gave it sustenance, Monstrous sauroids transported it in their mouths and deposited it with care. All forces have been steadily employ’d to complete and delight me, Now on this spot I stand with my robust soul.

Walt Whitman.

From THE DEATH SONG OF TALIESIN

Stir in the dark of the stars unborn that desire Only the thrill of a wild dumb force set free, Yearn of the burning heart of the world on fire For life and birth and battle and wind and sea, Groping of life after love till the spirit aspire, Into Divinity ever transmuting the clod, Higher and higher and higher and higher and higher, Out of the Nothingness world without end unto God.

Richard Hovey.

From RAIN IN SUMMER

Thus the seer, with vision clear, Sees forms appear and disappear In the perpetual round of strange Mysterious change From birth to death, from death to birth, From earth to heaven, from heaven to earth, Till glimpses more sublime Of things unseen before Unto his wondering eyes reveal The universe, as an immeasurable wheel Turning for evermore In the rapid, rushing river of time.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.