Beneath the Earth, bequeathed to mud,
The soft pink worm there nobly stood,
And in the muck ahead did gnaw
A path with well-accustomed jaw.
Thus having made himself a place,
He felt the light shine on his face.
For though every worm's stone blind,
He has the sharpest animal mind.
It's what mankind will never know;
It's what the worm will never show;
It's how the meanest thing that lived
Received God's kindest natural gift.
For man will never understand
the lowly worms on which he stands.
Each thing that you have never noticed
Holds in itself some higher office.