Pity would be no more
If we did not make somebody poor
And Mercy no more could be
If all were as happy as we

And mutual fear brings Peace
Till the selfish loves increase;
Then Cruelty knits a snare
And spreads his baits with care

He sits down with holy fears
And waters the ground with tears;
Then Humility takes its root
Underneath his foot

Soon spreads the dismal shade
Of Mystery over his head
And the caterpillar and fly
Feed on the Mystеry

And it bears the fruit of Decеit
Ruddy and sweet to eat
And the raven his nest has made
In its thickest shade

The gods of the earth and sea
Sought through nature to find this tree
But their search was all in vain:
There grows one in the human Brain