Arcturus

“Arcturus” is his other name—

I’d rather call him “Star.”

It’s very mean of Science

To go and interfere!

I slew a worm the other day—

A “Savant” passing by

Murmured “Resurgam”—”Centipede”!

“Oh Lord—how frail are we”!

I pull a flower from the woods—

A monster with a glass

Computes the stamens in a breath—

And has her in a “class”!

Whereas I took the Butterfly

Aforetime in my hat—

He sits erect in “Cabinets”—

The Clover bells forgot.

What once was “Heaven”

Is “Zenith” now—

Where I proposed to go

When Time’s brief masquerade was done

Is mapped and charted too.

What if the poles should frisk about

And stand upon their heads!

I hope I’m ready for “the worst”—

Whatever prank betides!

Perhaps the “Kingdom of Heaven’s” changed—

I hope the “Children” there Won’t be “new fashioned” when I come—

And laugh at me—and stare—

I hope the Father in the skies

Will lift his little girl—

Old fashioned—naught—everything—

Over the stile of “Pearl.”