Unstooping

Low on his fours the Lion

Treads with the surly Bear,

But Men straight upward from the dust

Walk with their heads in air;

The free sweet winds of heaven,

The sunlight from on high

Beat on their clear bright cheeks and brows

As they go striding by;

The doors of all their houses

They arch so they may go,

Uplifted o'er the four-foot beasts,

Unstooping, to and fro.