Theodore Roethke - The Summons lyrics

Now all who love the best - Old and rebellious young - Must contemplate the waste Of countenancing wrong: The human mired, the brute Raised up to eminence, The mimic following suit, Until devoid of sense, The good becoming gross, - All this we may discern. By slow degrees we learn The full extent of loss. Though the small wit we have May nullify belief, The simple act can save The heritage of life. With secrecy put by, The heart grows less obtuse; And fervency of eye Is put to better use. The impulse long denied, The lips that never move, The hatred and the pride - These can be turned to love. Now we must summon all Our force, from breadth to length, And walk, more vertical, Secure in human strength.