Of the Juggernaut car, called Civilization—

What know ye of freedom and life and God?

Monkeys, that follow a showman's string,

Know more of freedom and less of care,

Cage birds, that flutter from perch to ring,

Have less of worry and surer fare.

Cursing the burdens, yourselves have bound,

In a maze of wants, running round and round—

Are ye free men, or manniken slaves?

Costly patches, adorning your walls,

Are all of earth's beauty ye care to know;

But ye strut about in soul-stifled halls

To play moth-life by a candle-glow—

What soul has space for upward fling,

What manhood room for shoulder-swing,

Coffined and cramped from the vasts of God?

The Spirit of Life, O atrophied soul,

In trappings of ease is not confined;

That touch from Infinite Will 'neath the Whole

In Nature's temple, not man's, is shrined!

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