The Bargain

Why have you given all your self to dust,

Renounced your part in every utmost star,

Left all the woods behind, and every flower,

And turned your back on gleaming sands afar?

Is your world worth so much, that you would give

Away the faintest glimmer in the west

And dewdrops on the lilacs in the spring

And moss on boulders where the shade can rest?

Where is the beauty in your life of sweat

And feverish toil and muck and sickened smog,

And smoke from many smokestacks, poisoning

Even the salt air and the sea-fresh fog?

Why is it worth so much, that you would sell

Acres of paradise for a foot of hell?