Opus 62

Three little creatures gloomed across the floor
And stood profound in front of me.
And one was Faith, and one was Hope,
And one was Charity.

Faith looked for what it could not find,
Hope looked for what was lost,
(Love looked and looked but Love was blind).
Charity's eyes were crossed.

Then with a leap a single shape.
With beauty on its chin.
Brandished a little screaming ape . . .
And each one, like a pin.

Fell to a pattern on the rug
As flat as they could be—
And died there comfortable and snug.
Faith, Hope and Charity.

That shape, it was my shining soul
Bludgeoning every sham . . .
O little ape, be glad that I
Can be the thing I am!