They say that eagles call the mountains home
As over sky-roads flying these birds roam
And laugh at land-bound animals down below
And banal human endeavours unknown.
The flowers – gorgeous – drape themselves in clothes
More beautiful than any tailor sows.
Their colours fresh savour more of divine
Splendour than kings at courts their gaudy shows.
The ant – whose labours oft put men to shame –
Despises all pretensions to crude fame
That men pursue. What else it does not need
It discards as mere refuse all the same.