Eclectic Amateur

G. K. Chesterton: By the Babe Unborn

                      "By the Babe Unborn"

                      by G.K. Chesterton



              If trees were tall and grasses short,
                As in some crazy tale,
              If here and there a sea were blue
                Beyond the breaking pale,
            
              If a fixed fire hung in the air
                To warm me one day through,
              If deep green hair grew on great hills,
                I know what I should do.
            
              In dark I lie; dreaming that there
                Are great eyes cold or kind,
              And twisted streets and silent doors,
                And living men behind.
            
              Let storm clouds come: better an hour,
                And leave to weep and fight,
              Than all the ages I have ruled
                The empires of the night.
            
              I think that if they gave me leave
                Within the world to stand,
              I would be good through all the day
                I spent in fairyland.
            
              They should not hear a word from me
                Of selfishness or scorn,
              If only I could find the door,
                If only I were born.