To an Elephant.

Lord of the trunk and fan-like ears,

Wisest and mightiest next to man,

I see thee hence a million years

Ruling the earth with milder plan.

Dwellers above, beneath the ground,

Shall live contented in that time;

No subtle growths shall e'er confound

Their natural joy and instinct prime.

Not such as those who planned to nought

And groped ( wise fools! ) beyond their ken

Scarce knowing what they loved or sought —

Those subtle growths, those weary men —

Shall dwell earth's inexperienced brood

In natural joy and instinct prime;

But without evil, without good,

Be each new moment, not all time.

Jungles shall grow where cities stood,

The mighty rivers roar unbridged

The hungry tiger seek his food,

Save for thy bidding, privileged,

Where ( weary subtle growths ) we bore

Our burden of humanity;

For conscious mind shall work no more

And man himself have ceased to be.