On Refusal Of Aid Between Nations

Not that the earth is changing, O my God! Nor that the seasons totter in their walk,— Not that the virulent ill of act and talk Seethes ever as a winepress ever trod,— Not therefore are we certain that the rod Weighs in thine hand to smite thy world; though now Beneath thine hand so many nations bow, So many kings:—not therefore, O my God!— But because Man is parcelled out in men To-day; because, for any wrongful blow No man not stricken asks, “I would be told Why thou dost thus;” but his heart whispers then, “He is he, I am I.” By this we know That our earth falls asunder, being old.