Rabbit’s eyes are pink, And they are, I think, Less to watch with than to wink With: they are ornamental:
God to some Sticky stuff Not yet alive In a hive, Said,
Out in the bay arose a whale; And in a flash from surf to sight, From far-off wave to steamer-rail, A whale a millionth of its size
Perfume and petal Are qualities That test love’s mettle With too much ease.
I saw a donkey at a fair When sounds and songs were in the air; But he no note interpreted Of what the people sang or said.
The little muslin moth, Whose food is flame and cloth, Flitting in rapid flight From linen-chest to light,
Seldom the soaring rocket-light will rise Up from the flaming heart and reach the eyes. Often the song of ecstasy, half-sung,
Our single entrant in the race Of getting hailed as full of grace Outscored the angels, took the prize, And won all honors in the skies.
Their noses are assailed with smells, Their ears are beat upon by bells, They see the outward coverings And watch the surfaces of things,
Let not my little Muse Deceive you or confuse. Not in the pose of art
Elbows and knees are mysteries Of which I become aware, Dwindled at night to half my height
It is not information That causes inspiration. There are no lambs and Marys In any dictionaries;
O Cause of all our joys! 1 Queen, merciful and kind, What makes our girls and boys So precious in your mind? Brother Francis composed these verses to a lovely Arabic song he knew from his youth. ↩
Over us and under Is a world of wonder: In between we blunder, Blunder in between
This little rhyme might show you how to say—