What the Devil Said

It was night time! God, the Father Good, Weary of praises, on a sudden stood From His great Throne, and leaned upon the sky: For He had heard a sound; a little cry, Thin as a whisper, climbing up the Steep. And so He looked to where the Earth, asleep, Rocked with the moon: He saw the whirling sea Swing round the world in surgent energy, Tangling the moonlight in its netted foam; And, nearer, saw the white and fretted dome Of the ice-capped pole spin back again a ray To whistling stars, bright as a wizard's day. But these He passed, with eyes intently wide, Till, closer still, the mountains He espied Squatting tremendous on the broad-backed Earth, Each nursing twenty rivers at a birth! And then, minutely, sought He for the cry That had climbed the slant of space so hugely high. He found it in a ditch outside a town: A tattered hungry woman, crouching down By a dead babe — So there was nought to do, For what is done is done! And sad He drew Back to His Heaven of ivory and gold: And, as He sat, all suddenly there rolled, From where the woman wept upon the sod, Satan's deep voice — O thou unhappy God!