VI
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od fashioned the ship of the world carefullyWith the infinite skill of an All-MasterMade He the hull and the sails,Held He the rudderReady for adjustment.Erect stood He, scanning his work proudly.Then--at fateful time--a Wrong called,And God turned, heeding.Lo, the ship, at this opportunity, slipped slyly,Making cunning noiseless travel down the ways.So that, forever rudderless, it went upon the seasGoing ridiculous voyages,Making quaint progress,Turning as with serious purposeBefore stupid winds.And there were many in the skyWho laughed at this thing.
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