(A Soul R EMEMBERS )

Once, in my moment of earth,
Before the immortal re-birth,
I thought of my flesh as a thing
Like to the house of a king, —
Beautiful, worthy to stand
Proud on the heavenly strand.

I remember it now as a clod
Prone in the gardens of God, —
Mean, without honor or beauty,
Justified but by the duty
Of spending its pittance of power
In rearing a heavenly flower.