Oh, tell me twig (and tell me true) How is it that, though being you Want not for praise nor fame nor cheer But find such joy in life anew?
For even when the creature crawls And inches skyward up the walls You do not fret or flinch or fear But pray only safety if he falls.
When he arrives, he does not ask By Nature's choice, he knows his task To take and take without return Until he's full and then to bask.
And through it all, although so green You envy not, nor do you deem That he should, sleeping, sleep so deep And never wake back from his dream.
Then surely as the seasons come As sunlight breaks, as new days done The creature wakes and cracks and claws And spreads his wings, his freedom won.
And all who see him marvel thus At beauty brought but from the dust And you, oh twig, though long forgotten Marvel too in wonder thus.
“O beware, my lord, of jealousy; it is the green-ey'd monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.” William Shakespearre