A FAIRY TALE

All things grew upwards, foul and fair:

The great trees fought and beat the air

With monstrous wings that would have flown;

But the old earth clung to her own,

Holding them back from heavenly wars,

Though every flower sprang at the stars.

But he broke free: while all things ceased,

Some hour increasing, he increased.

The town beneath him seemed a map,

Above the church he cocked his cap,

Above the cross his feather flew

Above the birds and still he grew.

The trees turned grass; the clouds were riven;

His feet were mountains lost in heaven;

Through strange new skies he rose alone,

The earth fell from him like a stone,

And his own limbs beneath him far

Seemed tapering down to touch a star.

He reared his head, shaggy and grim,

Staring among the cherubim;

The seven celestial floors he rent,

One crystal dome still o'er him bent:

Above his head, more clear than hope,

All heaven was a microscope.