So am not I,_
_But a plain Spirit, simple and forthright,_
_With no damned philosophical fal-lals_
_About me. When I visited that planet_
_And watched the animalculae thereon,_
_I never said they were "automata"_
_And "jackaclocks," nor dared describe their deeds_
_As "Life's impulsion by Incognizance."_
_It may be that those mites have no free will,_
_But how should I know? Nay, how Mr. Hardy?_
_We cannot glimpse the origin of things,_
_Cannot conceive a Causeless Cause, albeit_
_Such a Cause must have been, and must be greater_
_Than we whose little wits cannot conceive it._
_"Incognizance"! Why deem incognizant_
_An infinitely higher than ourselves?_
_How dare define its way with us? How know_
_Whether it leaves us free or holds us bond?_
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES.
_Allow me to associate myself_
_With every word that's fallen from your lips._
_The author of "The Dynasts" has indeed_
_Misused his undeniably great gifts_
_In striving to belittle things that are_
_Little enough already. I don't say_
_That the phrenetical behaviour_
_Of those aforesaid animalculae_
_Did, while we watched them, seem to indicate_
_Possession of free-will. But, bear in mind,_
_We saw them in peculiar circumstances--_
_At war, blinded with blood and lust and fear.
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