This I Remember
20 July 1941
An Apish God Were I a high and mighty God Who never had to pant and plod Along one straight and narrow way, I’m sure I’d want to run and play Across the ordered fields of stars And scatter them with jolts and jars, Then swing upon the chandeliers Of clustered suns, to tweak the ears Of other Gods who might be nigh Within the vast and empty sky.
Then where these chandeliers are hung Down from the arching rafters swung That roof the curving universe I’d stop awhile and then converse; With much ado and apish wit I’d seat myself and there I’d sit To state my views and eloquize With those who would philosophize Upon the broad celestial view— Or pitch a bit of apish woo.
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