on one branch Bears northern spies, And on another thorn apples. ... Come Weissmann, Von Baer and Schleiden, And you Buffon and De Vries, Come with your secrets of sea shore asters Night-shade, henbanes, gloxinias, Veronicas, snap-dragons, Danebrog, And show us how they cross and change, And become hybrids. And show us what heredity is, And how it works. For the secret of these human beings Locked in this gutta percha case Is the secret of Mephistos and red Campions. Let us lay out the facts as far as we can. Her eyes were black, His eyes were blue. She saw through shadows, walls and doors, She knew life and hungered for more. But he lived in the mists, and climbed to high places To feel clouds about his face, and get the lights Of supernal sun-sets. She was reason, and he was faith. She had an illumination, but of the intellect. And he had an illumination but of the soul. And she saw God as merciless law, And he knew God as divine love. And she was a man, and he in part was a woman. He stood in a pulpit and preached the Christ, And the remission of sins by blood, And the literal fall of man through Adam, And the mystical and actual salvation of man Through the coming of Christ. And she sat in a pew shading her great eyes To hide her scorn for it all. She was crucified, And raged to the last like the impenitent thief Against the fate which wasted and trampled down Her wisdom, sagacity, versatile skill, Which would have piled up gold or honors For a mate who knew that life is growth, And health, and the satisfaction of wants, And place and reputation and mansion houses, And mahogany and silver, And beautiful living. She hated him, and hence she pitied him. She was like the gardener with great pruners Deciding to clip, sometimes not clipping Just for the dread. She had married him—but why? Some inscrutable air      Wafted his pollen to her across a wide garden—      Some power had crossed them. And here is the secret I think:      (As we would say here is electricity)      It is the vibration inhering in sex That produces devils or angels, And it is the sex reaction in men and women That brings forth devils or angels, And starts in them the germs of powers or passions, Becoming loves, ferocities, gifts and weaknesses, Till the stock dies out. So now for their hybrid children:—      She gave birth to four daughters and one son. But first what have we for the composition of these daughters? Reason opposed and becoming keener therefor. Faith mocked 

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