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“Whát !” said th’ ángels, “súch a big ball
Júst to give light to a little one!
Thát 's bad management and you know too
You had plenty of light without it.”
“Nót quite plenty,” said God snáppish, i “For the light I made the first day, Although good, was rather scánty, Scárce enough for me to work by.
“Ánd besides how wás it possible
If I had not made the big ball
To have given the little one seasons,
Days and years and nights and mornings ?
“Só you see there was nothing for it
Bút to fix the little ball steady,
Ånd about it sét the big one
Tópsy-turvying as you here see.”
“It 's the big ball we see steády,
Ánd the little one roúnd it whirling,"
Said the ángels, by the great light
Dázzled, and their eyebrows shading: -
“Nóne of your impertinence,” said God
Growing more vexed every moment;
“I know that as well as yoú do,
Bút I don't choose yoú should say it.
“I have sét the big ball steady
Ánd the little one spinning round it,
Bút I 've told you júst the opposite
Ánd the opposite yoú must swear to.”
Anything you sáy we 'll sweár to,”
Said the ángels húmbly bówing;
“Háve you anything more to show us?
Wé 're so fond of exhibitions.”
“Yes," said Gód, “what was deficient
În the lighting of the little ball,
With this pretty moón I 've made up
And these little twinkling stárs here."
“Wásn't the big ball big enough ?" said
With simplícitý the ángels:
“Couldn't, without a miracle,” said God,
“Shine at once on back and front side."
“There you 're quite right,” said the ángels, “And we think you show your wisdom *In not squảndering miracles on those Whó believe your word without them.
“Bút do tell us why you ’ve só far
From your little ball pút your little stars;
One would think they didn't belong to it,
Scárce one in a thoúsand shines on it.”
“To be súre I could have placed them
Só much neárer,” said God smiling,
“ Thát the little ball would have been as
Wéll lit with some millions féwer;
"Bút I 'd like to know of whát use
Tó th' omnipotent súch economy
Can't I make a million million stars
Quíte as easily as one star?”
“Right again,” said th’ ángels, “thére can Bé no mánner of doúbt aboút it.” “That 's all now,” said Gód; “tomorrow Cóme again and ye shall móre see.”
When the ángels cáme the next day
Gód indeed had not been idle,
Ảnd they sáw the little ball swarming
With all kinds of living creatures.
Thére they went in pairs, the creatures,
Of all sizes, shápes and colors,
Stálking, hópping, leáping, climbing,
Cráwling, búrrowing, swimming, flying,
Squealing, singing, roaring, grúnting, Bárking, bráying, méwing, hówling, Chúckling, gábbling, crowing, quácking, Cáwing, crosking, buzzing, hissing.
Súch assembly there has never
From that dáy down been on earth seen;
From that day down such a concert
There has never been on earth heard.
Fór there, rámping and their máker
Praising in their várious fáshions,
Wére all God's created spécies,
Áll except the fóssilized ones;
Fór whose ábsence on that great day
The most likely cause assigned yet,
Ís that théy were quite forgotten
Ảnd would not go úninvited.
Bút let that be as it may be,
All th' un fóssilized ones were there
Striving which of them would noisiest
Praise bestów upon their máker.
“Well,” said th’ ángels, when they 'd looked or Silently some time and listened; “Well, you súrely háve a stránge taste; What did you make all these queer things for ?”
“Cóme tomorrow and I 'll show you,'
Said God, gleeful his hands rúbbing;
“All you ’ve yét seen 's á mere nothing
Tó what you shall see tomorrow.”
Só, when th’ ángels cáme the next day
Áll tiptoé with expectation,
Ánd stretched nécks and eyes and ears out
Towards the new world, Gód said to them :-
“There he is, my last and best work;
There he is, the noble creature;
I told you you should see something;
What do you say now? háve I word kept?”.
“Whére, where is he?” said the ángels;
“We see nothing bút the little ball
With its big ball, moon and little stars
queer, yélping, cápering kickshaws.”
“I don't well know what you mean by Kickshaws," said God scárcely quite pleased, “Bút amỏng my creatures yỏnder Don't you see one nóbler figure ?
“By his strong, round, tail - less búttocks,
Ảnd his flát claws you may know him
Éven wére he not so like me
That we might pass for twin brothers.”
“Now we see him," said, the ángels;
“Hów is 't possible wé o’erlooked him ?
Hé 's indeed your very image
Only less strong ánd wise looking.”
“Só I hope the mystery 's cleared up,”
Said God with much sélfcomplácence,
áre no longer púzzled Whát I 've been aboút these six days.”.
“Éven th’ Almighty," said the ángels,
“Máy be proud of such chef- dooeuvre,
Súch magnificent and crówning
Íssue of a six days' labor.”
Hére a deep sigh rent God's bósom,
And a sháde came 6'er God's features:
“Áh," he cried,“were yé but honest
And no traitor stood amongst ye!
“Thén indeed this wére a great work,
Thén indeed I were too happy;
Áh! it is too bad, downright too bad,
But I 'll -- shall I? yés, I 'll let you;
“Let you disappoint and frét me,
Lét you disconcert my whole plan
Why of all my vírtues should I
Leave unpráctised only patience ?