Here lies burned bark, since neglected,
Yet once upright, strong and leafy,
Shaded by tall towers, and sinks.
There lies felled life, dimmed and weakened,
Like birds, once moving, now halted,
Feathers, once formed soft, now grainy
And chirps, once sung lithely, now cease
Within colored displays, painted.
What is Man then, but a rebel,
Who kills a bird, and makes one more
Of steel whose flight exceeds the Earth?
The moon and stars in their vastness
Captured in a page by painters
Bygone like burned bark, now despair'd.
