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    Or hurrying worker, each in its degree?

    I am a small man, closed in a small space,

    Expert in smallness, in the smallest things,

    The inconsiderable and overlooked,

    The curious and the ephemeral.

    I like your small cell, Brother. Poverty,

    Whiteness, a window, water, and your hand

    Steadying the beaker at my cracking lips.

    Thank you. It is enough.

    Was a small space too, not like this, not bare,

    A brilliant dusty hutch of mysteries,

    A cabinet of curiosities.

    What did my eyes first light on? There was scarce

    Space for a crib between the treasure-chests,

    The subtle-stoppered jars and hanging silks,

    Feathers and bones and stones and empty gourds

    Heaped pêle-mêle o'er the tables and the chairs.

    A tray of moonstones spilled into a bowl

    Of squat stone scarabs and small painted eyes

    Of alien godlings winked from dusty shelves.

    A mermaid swam in a hermetic jar

    With bony fingers scraping her glass walls

    And stiff hair streaming from her shrunken head.

    Her dry brown breasts were like mahogany,

    Her nether parts, coiled and confined, were dull,

    Like ancient varnish, but her teeth were white.

    And there was too a cockatrice's egg,

    An ivory-coloured sphere, or almost sphere,

    That balanced on a Roman drinking-cup

    Jostling a mummy-cat, still wrapped around

    With pitch-dark bandages from head to foot,

    Sand-dried, but not unlike the swaddling-bands

    My infant limbs were held in, I assume.

    

    And your hands, will they? presently will fold

    This husk here in its shroud and close my eyes,

    Weakened by so much straining over motes

    And specks of living matter, eyes that oped

    In innocent lustre on that teasing heap

    Of prizes reaped round the terrestrial globe

    By resolute captains of the proud Dutch ships

    That slip their anchors here in Amsterdam,

    Sail out of mist and squalls, ride with the wind

    To burning lands beneath a copper sun

    Or never-melted mountains of green ice

    Or hot dark secret places in the steam

    Of equatorial forests, where the sun

    Strikes far above the canopy, where men

    And other creatures never see her light

    Save as a casual winking lance that runs

    A silver shaft between green dark and dark.

    I had a project, as a tiny boy

    To make a catalogue of all this pelf,

    Range it, create an order, render it,

    You might say, human-sized, by typing it

    According to the use we made of it

    Or meanings we saw in it. I would part

    Medicine from myth, for instance, amulets

    (Pure superstition) from the minerals-

    Rose-quartz, quicksilver, we could grind to heal

    Agues or tropic fever. Living things

    Should have their own affined taxonomy,

    Insect with insect, dusty bird with bird,

    And all the eggs, from monstrous ostrich-globe

    To chains of soft-shelled snakes' eggs, catalogued,

    Measured with calipers and well set out

    Gainst taffeta curtains, in curved wooden cups.

    

    My father had a pothecary's shop

    And seemed well-pleased at first to have a son

    With such precocious yearnings of the mind.

    He was ambitious for me. In his thoughts

    He saw me doing human good, admired

    By men, humble in God's eyes, eloquent

    For truth and justice. When he saw that I

    Was not the lawyer-son his hopes embraced

    He fixed on a physician. "Who can mend

    Man's ailing frame, succours his soul too," said

    My father, a devout and worldly man,

    "And keeps himself in bread and meat and wine.

    Since fallen man must ail, the doctor's care

    Is ever-wanted, this side of the grave."

    But I had other leanings. Did they come

    From scrupulous intellect, or glamorous spell

    Cast by my infant nursery's denizens?

    It seemed to me that true anatomy

    Began not in the human heart and hands

    But in the simpler tissues, primal forms,

    Of tiny things that crept or coiled or flew.

    The clue to life lay in the blind white worm

    That eats away the complex flesh of men,

    Is eaten by the farmyard bird who makes

    A succulent dinner for another man

    And so completes the circle. Life is One

    I thought, and rational anatomy

    Begins at the foot o' the ladder, on the rung

    Nearest the fertile heat of Mother Earth.

    

    Was it for that, or was it that my Soul

    Had been possessed, in that dark Cabinet

    By the black spider, big as a man's fist,

    Tangible demon, in her sooty hair,

    Or by the coal-black Moths of Barbary

    Pierced through their frail dark wings, and crucified

    With pins, for our amusement?

    

    These were strange

    And yet were forms of life, as I was too