In Babel


In Babel we are rising all the time.
We have turned our eyes from unassuming earth,
a mortifying accident of birth,
toward a starry future as we climb

into the hitherto forbidden sky.
Our discourses and deeds will grow more rare-
fied as we attune to finer air.
The eagles will look upward when they fly.

And what can disconcert us at this height?
Unless a sort of overweening pride
that fills our head with stars and makes us mad...
we really ought to have a word for that.



David Callin