God is; and because life omnipotent
Gives birth to life, or of itself must die,
The suicide of its own energy,
God, of His unconsuming element,
Remakes the world, and patiently renews
Sap in the grass and ardour in the wind,
Morning and evening dews,
And tireless light and the untiring mind.
God makes things evil and things good; He makes
Evil as good, with an unchoosing care,
Nor sets a brighter jewel in the air
Than on the broidered liveries of His snakes.
Man, make thy world thine own creation; Strive,
Colour thy sky, and the earth under thee,
Because thou art alive;
Be glad, for thou hast nothing but to be.
Let every man be artist of his days.
And carve into his life his own caprice;
And, as the supreme Artist does not cease
Labouring always in his Starry ways,
Work without pause, gladly, and ask no man
If this be right or wrong; man has to do
One thing, the thing he can:
Work without fear, and to thyself be true.
Thou arts as God is; and as God outflows.
Weaving His essence into forms of life,
And, out of some perfection's lovely Strife,
Marries the rose's odour with the rose.
So must thou of thy heavenly human State,
And of thy formless Strife and suffering.
Thyself thyself create
Into the image of a perfect thing.
