Francis G. Thompson

“That thou canst not stir a flowerWithout troubling of a star.”

“WHAT heart could have thought you? --Past our devisal(O filigree petal!)Fashioned so purely,Fragilely, surely,From what ParadisalImagineless metal,Too costly for cost?Who hammered you, wrought you,From argentine vapor? --"God was my shaper.Passing surmisal,He hammered, He wrought me,From curled silver vapor,To lust of His mind --Thou could'st not have thought me!So purely, so palely,Tinily, surely,Mightily, frailly,Insculped and embossed,With His hammer of wind,And His graver of frost.”